


The Ways of The Heart

by Seffiron



Series: TWOTH AU - Strange Magic [1]
Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alliances, Angst, Blood and Gore, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Fear, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Manipulation, Murder, Mutual Pining, Romance, Slow Burn, War, forgiving past mistakes, lying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-14 10:44:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 86,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16038875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seffiron/pseuds/Seffiron
Summary: Of all the things that go bump in the night,I can assure you little one; these creatures are not the ones you should fear.Marianne never catches Roland cheating on her. She marries him, and five years later, she finally meets the king of the forest.





	1. OBS

**Author's Note:**

> Hello guys!
> 
> So, this is the fic that sets the scene for my alternate timeline/universe for Strange Magic.  
> I have original characters created for this, but I felt like finishing this fic before introducing them anywhere would be a better start than just posting them randomly, so here you go!
> 
> This is my first ever +10,000 words fic, and I'm very excited and extremely nervous to finally post it - I hope you guys will like it.

**The Ways of the Heart - OBSERVE  
** For references and such, this page is a good idea to have open while reading!~

  **Warning;  
** This fic contains description of gore.  
This fic contains murders.  
This fic contains mentions of sex and masturbation.  
This fic contains original characters.

  **In-fic terminology;** ****  
Noctis - goddess of the night  
Diem - god of the day  
Tenebrious - god of dusk  
Aurora - goddess of dawn  
Gaia - Mother earth

  **Character ages;  
** Marianne - 25 yrs.  
Dawn - 23 yrs.  
Roland - 26 yrs.  
Bog - 33 yrs.  
Sunny - 23 yrs.

 

 **Songs in order of appearance;  
** Undone in Sorrow (chapter 3)  
Did you Sleep Well? (chapter 4)  
Florence (chapter 8)  
Shady Grove (chapter 9)  
Henry Lee (chapter 11)  
Distress (chapter 14)

  * All songs are based on their respective versions by Crooked Still.



 

**Illustrations;**

Map of the Fairfield kingdom and Dark forest; [Royal Map](https://78.media.tumblr.com/becc2bbb9051b30e07f683305bfc90b1/tumblr_pfbfnsTn7w1s6p09uo1_1280.png)

Marianne Fairfield; [Queen Marianne](https://78.media.tumblr.com/ff31a88884b749cd58c2dc5cd38bf048/tumblr_pfem67NYVV1s6p09uo1_1280.png)

Freya and Almar;  N/A

David and Marcus;  N/A

Hector and Conrad: N/A

  
  
This fictional work of art functions as an Alternate Universe (AU) to the movie Strange magic. The fairy kingdom has been renamed the Fairfields, and several other kingdoms have been created and are mentioned throughout the story.  
This fic is a “what-if”, as in; what if Marianne never caught Roland cheating on her.  
Original characters have been included for story purposes.  
Liberties with the canon characters have been taken, and some personalities have been altered slightly.

This page will update as artwork get done~


	2. Prologue

**_The Ways of the Heart;_ **

_The Heart will cheat you,_   
_the Heart will blind you._

_The Heart will lead you,_   
_the Heart will lie to you._

_The Heart will love,_   
_the Heart will hope._

_The Heart will bleed,_  
 _the heart will never stop._  
  
_But my darling dear?_  
 _My heart,_  
 _will always be yours._

  


**Prologue**  
Of all the things that go bump in the night,  
I can assure you little one; these creatures are not the ones you should fear.  
  
They are big and small, scaled and smooth, scary and kind.  
I should know; I have seen them, spoken to them.  
I know their ways and traditions.  
  
Why, I visited them of course! Many times over,  
and I even made a great friend among them.  
She is kind and just, and the king that rules beside her is great and fearsome.  
Well, if you think so my sweet, then thank you.  
  
I will tell you all about them, and her and her family.  
Why, I think she even has a son.  
He’s a little older than you, but maybe you could be friends one day?  
Oh don’t make that face, I think you’d get along nicely!  
  
Now my sweet, close your eyes.  
I can hear papa coming - do you want him to wish you goodnight?


	3. Chapter 1 - A Day she Won't Forget

“But I can’t he-upmph!”  
  
Marianne felt herself being pulled back and away from the balcony by her way too eager little sister, and as she  
was forced to turn around she rolled her eyes as she regarded the blonde fairy that was now in front of her.  
“Dawn! I need to see him! He doesn’t even have his boutonniere!”

Marianne wanted today to be perfect, and it couldn’t be perfect if Roland didn’t have her gift!  
She’d imagined this day for so long, and oh gosh it needed to be everything she’d ever dreamt of!  
The ceremony with the entirety of her future kingdom gathered to see her tie bonds with her one true love.  
The wedding party, which would be hosted in the grand ballroom, which she knew, had been decorated with white roses and streams of silvery spider silk!  
Her wedding night - oh her wedding night! It would be perfect; finally surrendering her body to the only person that was allowed to touch her ever again!

But she couldn’t have that! Not before she gave him her final token, a symbol of her true love and -

The younger princess shook her head and her wild, spiked hair danced around her like a halo.  
She scrunched up her nose and flared out her wings as she let her older sisters arm go to put her hands on her  
hips in a scolding posture.  
Marianne almost laughed a little at Dawn's tantrum, but it did manage to pull her from her reverie and finally pay  
attention to her baby sister as she stood in Marianne’s bedroom.

Dawn was dressed in her usual blue dress with the intricate gold patterns at the collar, on the sleeves and on the hem of her skirt.  
Though Marianne knew she’d be wearing a different piece later this evening.  
As much as Dawn had fussed over Marianne’s outfit for the wedding, she knew her little sister would not be disappointing anyone tonight with her own dress - one which Marianne had caught glimpses of a couple of times  
as Dawn worked on both their pieces.

She knew it was a deeper shade of blue with orange hues cascading down from her shoulders onto her sleeves, and golden string woven into the fabric in patterns of flowers and forest motives.  
She would be wearing golden and orange-hued leggings and blue stilettos and would remind Marianne all too much of their mother.  
It was a modern version of their mother’s signature ball gown after all, and she’d caught Dawn getting teary-eyed while working on it.

Marianne’s dress was made based on Roland’s wishes. _Elegant yet classic, just like my girl._  
Marianne sighed dreamily, _his girl_ , oh how she couldn’t wait to call herself _his girl_.  
The dress was… different for sure. It was classic in every way of the word, the only challenging part of the piece was the feathered collar.  
It was a status symbol for royal females to wear feathers somewhere on their wedding gowns, and the most traditional placement was the collar.

   
It had taken ten fairies to subdue the white pigeon and keep it earthbound long enough to pluck the feathers.  
Roland had suggested killing it to harvest both the meat and the feathers for later uses, but that was a sin beyond compare.  
Animals were not to be killed unless as a last resort, and especially not white pigeons. Damaging anything so pure was sure to bring years of hardship upon the kingdom, as the Gods would not let it go unnoticed.

“You cannot let Roland see you! And besides, I’ll give it to him before the ceremony!”

Marianne rolled her eyes again and then looked at the boutonniere in her hands.  
A flaming red circle, just like the love she held for Roland, lay perfectly symmetrical and radiant before her.  
Dawn really was skilled with her hands, having no doubt spent hours making the token before Marianne came home from her morning flight.

Marianne had wanted to make something for Roland too, though Dawn had told her she would take care of it.  
She’d wanted to try though, but had just been so nervous! So she had started collecting small branches, crashing in and out of bushes and treetops to find the perfect materials, and then all of a sudden she had her own boutonniere assembled - of course before Dawn tossed it away in favor of hers.  
Marianne was grateful though; as it seemed her nervousness had made her scatterbrained and not really seeing what she had been making in the first place. It wasn’t ugly in her opinion, but it was nowhere near as beautiful as Roland - and Roland deserved a token worthy of him.

“Now -” Dawn said as she smoothed the petals that made up the skirt of Marianne’s dress.  
The three pixies that were Marianne’s chambermaids flitted about her head, removing branches and leaves from her tangled mane, while Dawn looked over Marianne’s outfit, making sure she hadn’t torn it in any way.

“You look so beautiful Marianne!” Dawn exclaimed with tears in her eyes, holding her hands close to her mouth as her wings snapped out in pure delight.  
“Roland is such a lucky guy!”

Marianne gave her sister a nervous smile, her eyes gleaming with hope and happiness.  
“You really think so? I just can’t wait for him to finally be my husband! I mean can you imagine? After all this time, we’re finally, officially, together?”  
Marianne twirled around in the air, clutching the boutonniere close to her chest.  
She’d never been this happy in all of her life!

When Roland had first asked her father's permission to court her two years ago, Marianne had been about ready to explode from nervousness, happiness _and_ dizziness.  
Oh, he had been so handsome when she had first seen him, and one could tell he came from a proud family.

  
Roland was indeed from one of the noble houses from a neighbouring kingdom to the south.  While his bloodline was not royalty, her father had happily accepted, as the union had been a great way to create  
a stronger bond with the other kingdom, whose queen had also given her king two princesses as heirs, and therefore a royal wedding was out of the question.

Marianne had never understood why gender had been a problem, but her father had insisted she’d be stronger with a _king_ by her side to rule.  
And as soon as Roland had started his courting, she had all but forgotten about it and simply let herself get dragged into years of pampering and sweet-talking by the knight in shining green armor.

Her father’s wish to create ties and alliances with other kingdoms reached all the way back to when he and her mother had married.  
Queen Helena had always been one for reaching out to those in need, even if they didn’t want her to.  
Never backing down from helping others, the fairy queen was known for her kindness, her stubbornness, and her clever mindset.

She’d reached out to the southern Seaside kingdom as one of the first, having known the queen when they were younger, and an alliance had been formed in the early years of Marianne’s parent’s rule.  
An agreement had been made to allow the weak and sick from the field to migrate to the Southern kingdom for the winter, and the number of casualties the Fairfield’s had suffered each winter dwindled to nothing in comparison.  
In exchange, the Fairfield exported all sorts of herbs, flowers, silks and minerals to the  for their hospitality, and the alliance was the first great example of politics gone right in centuries.

It was Helena’s plan to unite the seven kingdoms of the land of Alba, all the way from the Southern kingdom to the northern mountains and in-between.  
With passages of travel being introduced through the territories, trading resources, sharing medicines, talking politics and making alliances; it would all be easier than ever before, and her mother had a great and well thought out plan for it all.

There were also dangers throughout all of the lands. Great beasts of low intelligence ran rampant in the night looking only to maim and eat, predators of flight caught unknowing citizens out of the air, and creatures of the deep lakes tore apart boats.  
Thus the fairy queen had deemed it safer if the kingdoms combined their forces to deal with each kingdom’s challenges, and eventually creating peace for those who lived in fear outside of the respective castle walls.

 

She’d sent out letters of peace, politely prompted the other kingdoms to make time for a grand meeting of all the castles and royal families. A feast designed to let the kingdoms get to know each other, and finding any sort of  
common ground that could make way for alliances and friendships.  
She’d even managed to win the favor of one of the darker territories, having charmed the Conifer queen, and to some extent her husband, into friendship.  
Which was all for the better despite the whispering and rumors it had caused, as the Dark Forest neighbored with the Fairfields.

And then tragedy had struck, and the Fairfields had never been the same again - and neither had Marianne nor her family.  
The queen had been on her way back from the Conifer king’s castle when an owl had swept in and torn apart her escort - and the queen herself.  
Marianne’s father had stayed behind to look after the Fairfields and his two daughters, and so never got to say goodbye to his queen - and neither had Marianne or Dawn for that matter.

Marianne had been six and Dawn four when the news came back of blood-spattered armor and torn off wings being found at the border, and her father had been furious with grief and closed all passageways to the Dark Forest.  
He was close to declaring war with the Conifer king, but once the Conifer queen had settled the dispute over whose fault it was that the queen had not been properly protected, it had ended with nothing but cold air between  
the now torn alliance, and the Dark Forest was left to themselves once again.

Her mother’s funeral had seemed so bleak and unreal to Marianne, as she knew the coffin was empty and simply there as a symbol.  
Nonetheless, it was lowered into the soil and a great headstone rested upon its burial ground, it’s marbled texture bearing a message of her mother’s kindness and the hope she had carried in her heart.

All of the kingdoms whom her mother had reached out to had been there, or at least their ruling monarchs.  
Even the Conifer king and Conifer queen had shown up, though Marianne didn’t remember any of the faces she saw that day, and therefore couldn’t quite recall what they’d looked like.  
They didn’t stay for long was all she remembered, and as she grew older she understood why; it was simply in bad taste.

Still, now she was grateful for their last tribute to her mother, a token of their appreciation for her kindness and the possibilities she’d proposed to them - a single piece of amber, yet a symbol of the royal family of the Dark Forest.  
It had been hidden in the vaults ever since its arrival to the Fairfields, and it had been years since Marianne had last thought of it.

“I wish mom could’ve been here.”

Marianne always had to hold herself back from crying when she thought of her mother, and now was no different.  
This was supposed to be a happy day, and until a few minutes ago she felt like nothing could break her out of her mood.  
She would of course never blame her mother, Marianne blamed herself too easily, finding herself weak and useless when it came to hiding her feelings - she was going to be queen, she had to practice a stoic appearance  
and a calm outer mask if she wanted her people to respect her.  
Dawn became a bit somber too, looking taken aback with her sister’s comment. Marianne was sure Dawn hadn’t counted on remembering their mother like that today if anything -  
“She’d be so proud of you. I mean, how could she not? And oh gosh Mari, even if I don’t remember Mom that well, I just know that you look so much like her right now.”

Dawn smiled at her sweetly as she fixed the feathers on Marianne’s collar. A single tear made it down Dawn’s cheek, making her skin gleam like silver on marble.  
Marianne always thought Dawn looked more like their mother, except for her hair and eyes - Marianne had inherited those.  
But Dawn’s gentle and elegant features showed off her mother’s genes, whereas Marianne had always been rougher around the edges, and not quite as princess-y.

This time she couldn’t help it, and tears flowed freely down her cheeks, staining her makeup and making it run.  
She brought the back of her hand up to wipe away the liquid, but Dawn’s hand caught it before she managed to ruin her face further.

“Here, I got you, big sis.”

Dawn procured a handkerchief from one of the handmaidens and gently started to dab at Marianne’s face.  
She knew her makeup was ruined no matter what, but Marianne was still grateful for having Dawn here with her like this.

“I’ll need to redo this. Here give me a second.”

Dawn turned towards Marianne’s dressing table and brought forward the box she’d brought to Marianne’s room earlier that day. The box contained several shades of eyeshadow in form of berries, some light and dark powders, perfumes in glass vials, sticks of coal and crushed petals.

As Dawn started to work on Marianne’s makeup the chambermaids flitted around her head to fix her hair - a task they could continue on with for hours as Marianne had found out. She liked her hair as it was, but Roland had  
commented that he liked it longer. Perhaps she should grow it out for him?

“You know. I think she is here, at least in some way. I heard an elder from Elven village talk about spirits of your loved ones never truly leaving you. And if she truly never left, I bet she wouldn’t miss your wedding for the world.”

Dawn caught Marianne’s eyes in her own and gave her a reassuring smile. Oh, how Marianne just wanted to hold her baby sister close right now and never let her go - and she did just that.  
Her arms extended and Marianne caught her sister in a warm hug, squeezing her close to her chest and she almost started crying again.

“Hey now, I wasn’t finished!” Dawn all but squeaked in delight as she returned her older sister’s hug with fervor.

“Thank you, Dawn. I really needed this. I’m sorry I ruined the mood like that... I just-” Dawn hugged her sister closer to her before Marianne could go on, almost crushing her and making breathing  
difficult for the older princess.

“Don’t think about it. Not today - today is a day of happiness and a day to celebrate. Let her rest for another day and we can talk about her then. She can wait, Marianne, she will always wait for us.”

Dawn let her iron grip go and Marianne brought a hand up to rest on her sisters’ cheek in a loving gesture.  
“Since when did you grow up so fast?” Marianne sniffled at her baby sister.

“Hey! I’m not the one getting married and crowned later this year miss _Queen of the Fairfield’s_!”

Dawn gently punched her sisters’ shoulder as her eyes twinkled with mischief, and oh how Marianne loved this girl and her ability to always lighten the mood.  
The two then proceeded to spend most of the morning laughing and getting ready for the upcoming ceremony.  
Marianne was supposed to come back to her room for a quick inspection of her makeup and hair, all managed by Dawn of course, before she’d be allowed to enter the ballroom.  
Marianne thought it silly, but Roland had apparently agreed on the idea, exclaiming that he needed his bride looking as pretty-fine as possible for their dance.

A short hour before the ceremony was spent exchanging stories of the sister’s romantic conquests in good-humored fun. Marianne hadn’t been a total rookie in the romantic scene before she met Roland, but she felt like she’d never need anyone aside from him for as long as she lived.


	4. Chapter 2 - Something Wicked

  * _Five years later_



 

“Parry your Majesty, parry! Good! Now, watch out for your right! Yes, good!”

Droplets of sweat flung off of Marianne’s forehead as she threw her sword into the air. As the gleaming piece of metal spun above them, Marianne kicked out with her left foot to tumble an opponent over, blocked an oncoming  
attack with her right arm from another, and grunted out one frustrated groan after the other.

“You’re doing great! Excellent form!”

She unabashedly flipped off her commenting spectator with her right hand, and as laughter abrupted among the training fairies, Marianne felt more at ease than she’d done in weeks.  
A fine sheen of sweat clung to her body, her lungs were burning with every breath she took, her muscles were aching and her body made every attempt to remind her that she’d been at this for _hours._

Almar erupted in a roar as he charged for her left wing from behind her, and while Marianne fought off David with vigor in front of her, Freya flanked her from above, sword in hand and her golden wings spread wide.  
The queen had little time to react she knew, as she’d seen this tactic before. She ducked and let Almar and David crash into one another, and as Marianne rolled out from beneath them she caught her sword as it fell to the  
ground, clashing it together with Freya’s one millisecond before the affronted metal sliced through her shoulder.

The loud clang reverberated throughout the courtyard, and as the first rays of sunshine made it over the treetops of the Dark Forest out in the distance, the dew on the grass around the group started shimmering like crystals.  
Dawn was finally upon them.

Marianne lay on the ground half turned towards Freya who towered above her, the fairy’s auburn locks covering her eyes as she heaved for air, and as the two boys in the heap behind them started to groan and untangle  
themselves, Marcus made his way over from where he had stood in the corner and analyzed the fight.  
He was the oldest of the five, reaching his twenty-seventh winter this coming summer, and he was the most skilled fighter of them all.

“David, good footwork, though you need to practice on your landing” - David aimed a thumbs-up his way, still heaving facedown on the ground.  
“Almar, Freya, try to ease up on the war roars, you could attract unwanted attention with all the shouting you’re doing!” - The two beamed at one another, having had some sort of contest all morning on who could shout  
themselves hoarse before the other. It was a typical behaviour of the twins, and their freckled faces scrunched up with the huge smiles they displayed.

“And my queen, as I said; excellent form.”

Marianne got up and wiped down her dark leggings. This morning she had donned her favourite sparring outfit.  
A purplish well-fitted tunic made of strengthened rose petals, dark purple leggings with intricate golden patterns, blackberry vines wrapped around both hands and made into a holster at her hips to support the scabbard for her  
sword.  
She ran her fingers through her hair and shook it free of dirt and accumulated dewdrops.

“Don’t be so kind Marcus, you know I want details on everything I did wrong.” She shot him a gentle, yet determined smile and winked at him.  
The black haired man before her nodded seriously and narrowed his eyes at her.

“Well, let me see. You almost didn’t catch your sword in time to block Freya - that could’ve meant yet another scar to add to your collection. Also, your ankle slipped at some point in the middle of your fistfight with Almar about an hour ago, did a number on your knuckles I see.”

Marianne studied the bruised flesh on her left hand. She had been trying to strengthen it lately, needing to be able to use both her right and left hand in battle, should the need ever come up. But it had cost her in her  
sparring matches, and she grew more and more frustrated each time it failed her. Still, she was learning to control the muscles better.

“I’ll be sure to keep both things in mind. Damn, my reflexes need to be faster.”

She felt a hit from behind on her right shoulder. “If your reflexes were any faster I’d start to fear for my life!” She turned around and stuck her tongue out towards David who was now cowering in mock fear.  
Freya swung her sword in front of her and then rolled her shoulder with a groan. “I think I pulled something. Damn, and just as we were about to head out”.

Marianne looked at her in worry and anger. “I can’t believe Roland made you go. It’s not fair that-”

“We want to go!” David chimed in, his bouncing strawberry blonde curls encasing his face as he straightened up a little too quickly. “Marianne, er, your Majesty. We’ve been on the rafters for too long. It’s an honor that the crown would have us go out there, but in truth, I can’t wait to fight!”

Marianne shot him a mocking look, raising one eyebrow and thinning her lips. “You should have just said so. If you’re bored I could have made you clean out the armory! I lot of the weapons down there also needs a good shine-up.” She winked at him but then turned a bit somber.

“It’s not that I don’t want you to get out there. I just wish I could go with you. I’m the queen! I should be allowed-”

“You know the council won’t allow it. I’m sorry Mari, but… as you said, you’re the queen. There have been rules set in place for your well-being for a reason.” Freya added in a sad, yet understanding voice.

“Don’t remind me.” Marianne looked at the ground. The tragic death of her mother had set the country on edge, and especially when it came to anything even remotely close to the borders of the Dark Forest.  
She wasn’t allowed to go, her position as ruling monarch be damned.

Her job was to host and overlook festivities, kiss babies, oversee the occasional council meeting and secure peace in her kingdom. But now five years into her reign Marianne was aching for more, she was practically vibrating with unleashed tension and having her four closest guards leave her side like this was not helping.

Besides, with Roland as her king, the chances of her ever leaving to do something of greater meaning were close to null. He loved the spotlight and would take any chance he got to go play the hero, which meant Marianne was left behind with the more lenient stuff.  
She’d tolerated it because she’d needed to learn about the laws, figure out how every little tradition played into the bigger picture, and how to be a functioning part of her council. Her father had tutored her of course; the years  
leading up to her coronation had been filled with lessons from both him and the official royal tudors, but Marianne had still felt like she needed to learn.

So she’d played the nice wife and queen, agreed to the rules that had been made to keep her safe, waited, and trained.  
She finally felt like she could face the dangers of the world though, that she could put herself out there, and that she could convince the council that she wasn’t some delicate flower - she was a warrior at this point, able to spar with any of her knights and guards, and she’d fight them all to prove it if she had to.

She’d had to talk it over with Marcus first though. She knew he’d vouch for her, but she also wanted his opinion on the matter. They were talking about nullifying a law, after all, a law that had been based on fear - and we all  
know that decisions made out of fear are the ones that are the most difficult to get reconsidered.

“Well, well, look at you all muddied up!”

Marianne turned her attention to one of the archways leading to the armory. From it emerged her way too shiny husband clad in his green and golden armor, sword, and shield by his side. He looked about ready to get speared, and Marianne chuckled to herself at the thought.

“I thought I’d spend my morning practicing for when I’d have to come out and save your sorry ass.” She quipped back at him.

“Now, now darling, language. And we talked about this; it was deemed unnecessary for any females of the royal family to fight! Besides, your fragile little body couldn’t even hope to handle the dangers of the fields, let alone the horrors of the forest! Why, I wouldn’t even dare dream of what’d happen to you if I let you join us this fine morning.”  
He shot her friends a charming smile and they did their best to reciprocate. No need for them to get in trouble simply because they didn’t support Roland they way they were expected to, so she’d instructed them to always humor him no matter what.

Marianne all but scoffed though. She had more muscle than Roland could ever dream of on her legs alone, and she knew for a fact that he had several problems with her physique. She was smaller than him in height, but she’d gained on him in muscle mass over the years, so he took every chance he got to belittle her on her body to  
make himself seem bigger and stronger.  
Those were just words though, and they had stopped hurting her rather quickly, so at this point, she just found his quips pathetic.  
Nonetheless, she wouldn’t be allowed to go - not right now anyway.  
_*Bide your time. They will change their minds soon.*_

“Roland, I think I saw something last night. It was big, even from the distance of the castle! I’m not sure it’s a good idea to go there, maybe we should just send a message to the Dark Forest. Ask their ruling couple what happened, and hope it was just a simple misunderstanding?” She tried to reason as she eyed her friends.  
  
Marianne had been in her own bedchamber, which was connected to her personal study, when she had heard the screams.  
Roland and her hadn’t slept in the same bed for years, let alone the same room, and while it was certainly odd, Roland had insisted it was a good idea when she’d demanded a separate room be made for her.  
She’d argued that she was tired of running from one end of the castle in the middle of the night when she’d spent the evening in her study, and Roland had agreed - apparently he wasn’t sad about his queen being absent in their chamber, but simply voiced his concern that he didn’t want her falling asleep on her desk, so she’d gotten a room made for herself.

  
Marianne, of course, knew the true reason, but didn’t voice it. She was simply overjoyed to finally have a reason not to return to him every night and to have a place of silence to contemplate her thoughts and plans for the future.  
Her new chamber faced the Dark Forest, and though she couldn’t clearly see anything, she’d be able to tell if anything from the forest drew near.

“Oh darling I’m sure you did, but who knows when the letter will arrive? And let alone if they’ll even answer! I wouldn’t go there if it wasn’t because the safety of our kingdom is at stake! I mean, what if the fight took place within our borders? I will not have goblins running around sullying our soil!”  
Roland stomped his left foot violently and flung a finger upwards towards the sky. He probably thought he looked authoritative, but Marianne found him to look pretty much like a five-year-old not getting his way.

She sighed. She had to agree that checking things out was the best course of action, but she’d really hoped that she could get Roland and _her_ guards to stay. If she didn’t get to go, she didn’t want him to either. Then again, maybe he’d fall and hurt his pretty face.  
She breathed in and calmly let her shoulders fall on her exhale. “Right. Go do what you have to do.”

He smiled charmingly at her and turned around, motioning for the guards to follow him. “Five minutes boys! Meet me at the gates in five!”  
Freya let out an annoyed huff and safely tugged her sword in its scabbard.  
  
“Be safe, okay? I know you have to protect him, but don’t do anything stupid.” Marianne smiled as they gathered around her in a circle.  
Marcus gave her a polite bow while the rest affirmed in their own personal ways. They all parted in a hug as the guards went towards the archway leading to the gates, and Marianne turned back  
towards the entrance to the castle. A quick bath, a change of clothes and a study session in the library would do her good.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“Woah there Chipper! Easy boy!”  
The squirrel in question reared up on its hind legs, squealing all the while as it swung its front paws in the air to ward off danger.

They had been marching for about four hours now. Scouring paths along the border of the forest, searching for clues as to what had caused such commotion last night. But so far they had found nothing, and the sun was  
starting to bear down on them.  
Roland tugged on the handles situated at chippers saddle plate to get the frightened animal to calm down. As soon as Chipper stood firmly on the ground again, Roland looked between the guards he’d brought with him on patrol, and then the patches of long grass ahead of them.

He’d gathered an escadrille consisting of four official royal bodyguard fairies and led them to the bothers of the Dark Forest. They were currently scouting for trouble ahead from the air as he and his three most personal, loyal knights scoured the surrounding areas on the ground.

The reason had been simple and more than enough to convince Marianne to take these particular fairies wit him; a skirmish had been heard all over the Fair fields last night. A skirmish which quite obviously had come from the Dark Forest.  
Roaring bellows, screams and grunts had filled the cold night air, and the royal couple had all but jumped out of their respective beds to head for the balcony of their bedchambers.  
Even with Roland’s own chamber being situated at the opposite end of the castle, facing away from the Dark Forest, he’d heard it.

The Dark Forest had been dormant for years when it came to causing any sort of trouble, not that there had been much to account for in the past, but this was truly the first they’d heard from them in a long time. The blood-curdling screams that had come from the direction in which they were now headed had made Roland  
apprehensive, but the council had agreed that the best course of action would be to send a scouting team. He didn’t want to agree with Marianne about sending a letter, but oh how he wished he had now.

Still; he had to be, er, act brave. The facade he’d put up had worked so far, and if he was clever he could get through this without breaking a sweat. The elite guard he’d brought with him wasn’t just here to mock his wife’s  
efforts and herself, they were also skilled fighters and would undoubtedly protect him against any goblin that drew near.  
He wasn’t too bad with a sword himself either, and he figured the fight was as good as won in any case really.

Chipper once again reared its head, his ears going back and forth as he sniffed the air, and suddenly the great beast started shaking and pawing at the ground; a sign Roland knew as his stead getting ready to make a run for it.  
“Heads-up men! It seems whatever happened last ni-”  
He stopped dead in his tracks as his eyes caught something in the distance. Something big, slimy, and covered in a reddish black goop.  
Roland pulled on Chipper’s reins and headed towards the object, much to the animal’s obvious disapproval. He gestured with his hand for the others to follow him, and so they all made their way over.

Strewn about at the feet of a large thistle were the remains of what looked like a big goblin. One of the more brutish kind bred for muscle and size, but in this particular instance, the creature had been torn apart.  
And not just limb by limb either.  
It was torn in half, and not smoothly either as huge chunks of flesh were missing in several places of the torso. One leg was gone from the lower half and both arms were nowhere to be found, and its face, oh Gods its face, was nothing but a mashed pulp of cranial mass and more goop.  
It looked like someone, or something had been chewing on it and then spit it back out. The creature probably didn’t get to finish the job due to dropping its meal in the patch of thistles.

Roland heard the gasps of the airborne fairies above him and saw how they covered their mouths and placed their hand on their stomachs so as to keep from puking from the sight.  
While Roland wasn’t immune to the sight, he didn’t much care for goblins. He was just a little disappointed he hadn’t been here to see the battle for himself.

He looked around, only now seeing the more telltale signs of the skirmish from last night. Broken twigs, crushed flowers and stomped down bushes. Footprints in the mud and what he now understood to be goblin blood, littered all over the place.  
He caught sight of something red, not blood red but more a matted red like -

“Fur?”

Roland jumped off of Chipper and went over to investigate the piece of red fur he had spotted. He held it up in his hands to examine, bringing it to his nose to smell.  
It was putrid, mostly because of the slime covering it, but it was definitely bestial with a tinge of musk to it. it wasn’t a red squirrel, he was sure of that - besides, such a small creature wouldn't have stood a chance against the big goblin beneath the thistle.

“More carcasses over here boss! Seems like this thing had quite the feast last night!”

It was Richard that was pointing at another thistle patch nearby, seemingly having discovered several more bodies inside the thorny plants.  
Richard was part of the “trusted trio” as Roland called them. The eldest of the triplets of Richard, Nicholas, and Phillip, and Roland knew he could trust the three with his life, so he went back over to where Richard now stood, still clutching the strand of fur in his hand.

“What do you make of this?”  
He handed Richard the long hair as his eyes scanned over the thistle patch - it was indeed littered with bodies of all sorts of goblins. What was it with this thing and thistle patches? Why dump the bodies there?

“Hmm, I can’t say boss… maybe a red squirrel? Though I don’t think that’d be able to cause such chaos.” Richard looked back at the patch in front of the two and scratched the back of his head in confusion.  
“My thoughts exactly.” Roland said with his usual charm to his voice. This was getting exciting! It seemed there was a mystery here to be solved, and as king of the Fairfields it was his duty to take credit for it!

Suddenly a shout could be heard above them. No, not just a shout; a shriek of deafening terror, and as Roland looked up in horror, he saw one of the soldiers above him clutched in the jaws of a big, fiery red, and angry fox.

The giant creature swung the wounded fairy back and forth in its jaws, the guard’s helmet flying off and clanging to the ground below. Roland’s eyes widened in terror and as the rest of the airborne soldiers unsheathed their swords, as Roland and his triplet soldiers ran back to Chipper.  
Roland saddled up and turned Chipper around back towards the castle, but not before casting a wide-eyed  
glance back at the horror behind him.

“Richard, on my flank! We need to distra-”  
It was Marcus who spoke. Roland knew the guy well enough to recognize that annoying tint of leadership in his voice. He was a good leader, though Roland hated to admit, just too bad he was going to be four people short right at this second - otherwise they might have stood a chance against the beast.  
Roland locked eyes with Marcus, and he noticed how wide the other’s eyes were... filled with disbelief.

Two of the remaining three of the soldiers were swinging their swords at the snout of the fox, one digging into the soft patch of skin at the top of the monster’s nose.  
The fox chirped and let go of the fairy in its mouth, which fell limply to the ground, his back clearly broken and death written all over his face.

The only female soldier ducked down to slash at the creature’s legs, leaving gauges in its flesh beside small teeth-marks and scratches that seemed fairly new.  
“MARCUS! What are you doing?! Help me-”  
She screamed out as the fox lifted its left foot and brought her to the ground with one swift slash of its claws. Marcus, stunned as he was to see his king abandon them, screamed out as the fox grabbed hold of his wings in its maws, and tore them from his back.

He could survive that. Stories of wingless fairies had - oh, never mind, now he was caught headfirst in the mouth of the beast. Better get out of here!

Roland turned Chipper around while shooting a distressed look at Richard, whom nodded quickly and set off towards the safety of the castle. If they could make it back fast enough, the fox wouldn’t notice and wouldn’t follow them.

“My king! Please, agh! Help us!” - Was that Almar? Nevermind, at this point it didn’t matter.

Roland didn’t turn back to look this time and spurred Chipper into a gallop as the triplets flew in front of him, keeping low to the ground so as to not draw the fox’s attention.  
Sounds of wailing and splattering could be heard behind them, and all the while Roland’s heart drummed in his ears, and a plan formed in his head.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Marianne paced the floors of the entry hall to her castle in a tissy, and the sound of her heels clanged against the stone. Roland and his team had set out this morning to investigate the sounds they’d both heard last night, and  
she was at her wit’s end.  
She had donned one of her tight fitted dresses made from tulip leaves. This one was of the short kind, with dark leggings beneath, in case she needed to go out. She wore deep purple boots with a sturdy heel on them and her sword was in its scabbard at her left hip.

A look of worry had been painted on her features all day, but not for Roland himself - she worried for the guards he’d taken with him.  
The four Elite guards he’d brought along with him were close friends of hers from her childhood, and having played with them when they accompanied their fathers to the castle had made them all very close. They all came from warrior families tied closely to the royal family itself, sort of like royal bodyguards.  
  
She’d been training with them ever since she became queen. Roland didn’t like it, her father didn’t like, her council definitely didn’t like it, but they had no say in the matter. Marianne was queen and if she deemed her own physical strength to be of importance, she damn well would hone it.  
The training hadn’t acquired her to leave the castle and surrounding grounds, so the council had kept their mouth shut in the end, and let her do as she pleased. Roland however, didn’t like being told to mind his own business.

She knew that’s why he’d chosen them; in case something were to happen out there and he’d need a few bodies to shield himself from danger - and they would be perfect. The spite he bore for her sparring lessons once again reminded her of how much she despised him in return, and she ground her teeth as she kept pacing.

Roland had his own set of royal knights to protect him; three of his most loyal men from his home that never left his side. They were bred to do his every bidding, go without questioning any command, and raised to only ever be loyal Roland - even though they claimed to serve both monarchs.  
Therefore the need to take her personal guards was unjustified, and solely to once again put her in her place.

Marianne fumed and her eyes shone wildly. If anything had happened to them Roland would have hell to pay!  
But, he was still king and no one, except for herself and Dawn, saw him for the slimeball he truly was. Not even her own father took her seriously when she had unveiled the cruel ways of her husband, and how he manipulated her.

 _Marianne, you need to understand; Roland plays an important role in our alliance with the Southern kingdom!_ _Surely as his devoted wife, you could look past these small imperfections, and make it work? You know, like it_ _used to!_

She couldn’t bear to crush her father even more than she already had with her accusations.  
She needed proof instead of just ranting about the countless indecent actions Roland had committed while abusing his power. She would set him up somehow, make him vulnerable and think he had the upper hand, then reveal him as the weasel he truly was.

One thing was the countless mistresses he’d taken over the years - Marianne could handle them, as she held no desire for her husband anymore.  
She’d suspected his unfaithfulness around the second year of their union, but she had confirmed it herself at the dawn of their third.  
Marianne knew that Roland was aware that she had busted him that one evening. Their eyes had caught the second she closed the crack she’d open in the door to his study, and she remembered seeing no remorse in his as he continued to fuck the maid on his desk.  
  
He’d said nothing the next day and she had kept her own mouth shut for the longest time - seeing as he wasn’t going to apologize, there was no need to discuss it. Also, she couldn't handle the humiliation it would undoubtedly bring with it.

  
No one cared that their king was unfaithful anyway, and especially not after she’d let him _continue_ with it for three years - and he’d probably spin it to make it sound like it was her fault in the end anyway.  
She hadn’t been able to bear him a son or even a daughter for five years, and most of the kingdom thought her barren at this point, so revealing him to be unfaithful would do her little good.  
Of course, the kingdom also didn’t need to know that _she’d_ denied him sex for the past three years.

No, she needed something big, something that would shake the kingdom and, as much as Marianne dreaded this; would put it at risk.  
She needed a catastrophe, a major event, a -

“Goblins at the border! Goblins at the border!”

Marianne whipped around to face the main entrance, which had been plowed open by none other than the wonder triplets themselves. Richard was the one screaming at the top of his lungs as he flew through the doors. His two brothers, Phillip and  
Nicholas came behind him, Nicholas steadying what seemed like a wounded Phillip at the shoulders. They were all covered in bruises, scratches and, knicks, and Phillip’s right wing seemed to be dislocated.

The guards that had been with Marianne in the entrance hall all rushed to their aid, two securing Phillip as they lowered him to the ground, and then they were bombarding them all with questions;  
_“What happened? How many were there? What did they look like?”_

“Now, now everyone, give them some air! I don’t want to see these brave men burdened any further than they already are!”

Marianne hardened her eyes as Roland came in behind them. Chipper had been let to the stables, so Roland came strolling in on foot, carrying himself as if he was a deity walking on land.  
A shoulder plate had been torn off his armor, his knees were dirty and so were his elbows, and a single cut could be found on his otherwise pristine face - he looked like he’d survived the attack just fine.

“Roland, what happened?” Marianne inquired monotonically as she made her way towards her husband.

“Oh honey bear, it was dreadful! They came out of nowhere and scattered us! Silent as assassins - you know, I bet they were! Summoned there to kill off the neighboring monarch! I’m telling you, baby, it was a plot! They created all that noise last night to get us to investigate!”

He gestured wildly with his hands while walking towards them all, swinging around his body and hair for effect, and it seemed to work as the eyes of Marianne’s guards widened in disbelief. Marianne however, only narrowed her own eyes as she considered her husband’s words.

“They were merciless! Tearing apart our men, brutally severing their limbs from their bodies - In front of me! As an insult! I am so sorry honey, I’m afraid Marcus and his men… didn’t survive the ordeal. Why, hadn’t it been for my own personal guards, I doubt anyone of us would have made it back alive!”

Richard gave a bow towards his king in gratitude of his praising, and the guards around him lowered their head in respect and grievance for their fallen comrades.  
In the meantime, Roland had almost reached Marianne, a devilish smile on his face as he opened his arms in a silent command.

Marianne all but froze. Almar, Freya, Marcus, and David. All… dead? Her shoulders started to shake as her eyes began to water. No, not them, not her friends... Not like this.  
She clenched her fists at her sides and fought her inner storm to her best ability. Losing it in front of her guards would not benefit the situation, and would furthermore give Roland a small sort of satisfaction.

“Oh babycakes, I am so sorry. It’s okay though, I’m here now, I’ll make sure they pa-”

“Procure me some parchment and a quill, I need to send a letter right away. We’ll also need to assemble a team of people to recover the remains of our fallen kin, and see to it that I am notified for when they leave.” she gestured towards a guard, and he nodded before quickly disappearing into a corridor nearby.  
Marianne all but ignored her husbands offered embrace of comfort, and as she walked right past him towards the triplets behind him, she thought she saw something flash in his eyes.

“Thank you, for keeping my husband safe. I will make sure you’ll be properly honored later, but for now, I have other matters to attend to.”  
  
Richard was about to praise his queen for her kind gesture as Roland cut in - “Oh darling don’t worry, I’ll honor them myself! After all, I owe them my life!” - he shot Richard a very specific look.

“Oh my king, not at all! You were great in battle yourself! Only you shouldn’t risk yourself like that! It would be an honor to lay down my life for yours!”  
His two brothers chimed in, in agreement, and the guards around them all but acknowledged the motion.

  * _“Long live the king!”_ reverberated throughout the entrance hall.



Marianne smiled at her guards, turned on her heels and proceeded down the same corridor the previous guard had disappeared into moments before, not sparing her husband a single glance.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Marianne followed the corridor without looking at anything in particular, her eyes drifting along the walls as she went. She was deep in thought and trusted her legs to carry her to the library. Her own study was too far away, and she really needed to send this message right away.  
She ground her teeth as her heels clicked on the stone cold floor, the hallway lit up by bioluminescent fungi growing steadily from the walls, and the entire length of the tunnel was cast in a bluish light.

Marianne let her mind wander over the events of the day. Everything from her training this morning, to her trip to the library to read up on the Dark Forest seemed so unimportant now. They were dead… and she was partly to blame.  
“I should have gone with them..”  
  
The words were cast between the walls; bouncing back and forth, in front of her and behind her as she traversed the tunnel. She couldn’t believe it. She had feared it, had nightmares of them going out one day and never returning to her, and now… she hiccuped. Her tears were starting to roll down her face again.  
No, not now. You can mourn them later, now you need to get justice for them - focus!

She reached the end of the corridor and natural light sprung forth from the windows of the hallway it led to. The rounded arches carved out of the stone wall seemed to beckon her; take a look outside and see what you’re missing out on.  
Instead, she went for the large double oak doors leading to the library.  
  
As her hand grazed the handle of one door its twin swung open, and out stormed the guard she’d sent out to fetch her parchment and a quill. He spun on his heels and gave her a deep bow, after which he extended both his hands with the items she desired.

“Thank you, Robin, you may go.”  
  
She took the tools and watched as Robin made his way back through the same tunnel she came from. Back to those… fiends.  
She knew Roland and his friends played a big part in the death of her friends, and that they could’ve done more to save them, but as always she had no proof of her claims - Yet.  
Marianne entered the library with her head held high and went for the large oak table in the middle.  
  
Bookcases decorated the walls, and the oval room seemed almost like a living being with the many vines and flowers that had made it inside through the cracks in the stone structure.  
The castle was ancient she knew, and you could find the most intriguing nooks and crannies around its inner walls - the library being her favourite room of them all.  
It had always been cleared of vegetation in the past, but as Marianne ascended the throne she’d demanded it be left untouched. They only ever trimmed it now, to make sure you could actually enter without getting tangled up in vines.

The room was dark and smelled musty, a fireplace at the far end standing unlit and burned out after her study session last night. She hadn’t noticed how grey and dead it had looked this morning, but at this very moment, the sight made Marianne shiver.  
But it was too hot to light a fire, so she simple looked the other way as she took a seat by the large table.  
  
She spread out the pieces of parchment she’d been handed, and sat the inkwell and quill above it.

 

\-----------------  
  
_“Your Majesties,_ _  
_ _The Conifer King and the Conifer Queen._ _  
_ _  
_ _I write to you now in a time of dire circumstances, as you have no doubt taken notice of the skirmish outside your_ _  
_ _borders at the fifteenth night of spring’s first month._ _  
_ _  
_ _I know that our two kingdoms have not spoken in decades, but it is imperative that I get your undivided attention_ _  
_ _in this matter._ _  
_ _This morning the King of the Fairfields came back with claims of a fight, and fairy blood at the hands of your_ _  
_ _goblin people._ _  
_ _  
_ _Since this concerns you and yours, I only see it fit that we arrange for a meeting to settle this dispute._ _  
_ _  
_ _Take notice that I do not wish for further complications and that this meeting would only be to hear your part._ _  
_ _After all, everyone deserves a fair trial in this matter._ _  
_ _  
_ _Sincerely,_ _  
_ _Queen of the Fairfields.”_

_\-----------------_

  
Marianne signed the letter with her signature and folded it inside an envelope she had found near one of the shelves. She sealed the envelope with hot wax and pressed the ring on her right middle finger into the liquid substance, branding it with her personal royal seal.  
  
She sighed heavily and let her fingers glide over the envelope, feeling the texture beneath her skin and almost finding it soothing.  
  
“This will settle things... it has to. I just hope I can get an answer before Roland rallies the council too much.”


	5. Chapter 3 - His Kingship

The infirmary was buzzing with life as Roland and his three men were looked at.  
Roland, being the king, had been swarmed by both female and male caretakers the second he entered the room from the stables courtyard, but he charmed them all with his gleaming pearly white teeth and insisted they take a look at his comrades first.  
  
“Be careful with him; a goblin got a hold of his wing. It might be dislocated.” Roland said as he motioned towards Phillip, and Nicholas who was still supporting him by the shoulder.  
A female nurse nodded and went to inspect the appendage, Phillip grimacing as Nicholas guided him to one of the beds to sit him down. She hovered around him for a few minutes before speaking to a male associate and scribbling something down on some parchment.  
  
In the meantime, Richard went to stand by his king close enough for them to speak privately.  
“Good idea you had concerning the attack, this will really spur things into action.”  
  
Roland smirked and flipped his head back to let his hair out of the way of his eyes. Said eyes then settled on Richard as he whispered;  
“Indeed. And thank you boys for being such good sports about it. This kingdom will finally be making progress in the direction I’ve envisioned for years.”  
  
Richard nodded and looked back at his brothers, determination shining in his eyes. It hadn’t taken too much persuasion to get them to rough each other up. After all, the battle had to look as real as possible, and Roland had even allowed his own face to get hurt.  
Then nurses started to make their way towards the pair, and Roland waved Richard off to get taken care of.  
  
“The Dark Forest will finally be at my mercy, and the kingdom can expand. This is just too perfect.” He whispered in a low voice, not sure if Richard caught it, but certain the nurses didn’t.

Indeed it was perfect. He’d wanted to burn down that wretched place for years, but he couldn’t propose a war without proper cause, not even to _this_ council. As taken as they were with him, they’d announce him mad and take his crown from him for sure, and he had a suspicion his _devoted_ queen wouldn’t stop them.  
So the skirmish last night had been a perfect opportunity. Of course, he had hoped the goblins had actually attacked someone, but the fox was the next best thing. He’d have to explain the fur and paw prints, but with so much gore in the area, any hungry predator was sure to come by for a quick snack!  
Perfect indeed.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“Sire! Sire! News from the border, or er, a letter anyway!”  
  
Bog groaned and stretched out his back, giving his neck a satisfying crack and rolled his shoulders. His mother did have a point when it came to his seating position, and he probably shouldn’t hunch over quite as much…  
But he couldn’t be bothered to fix his posture for the time being - at least he looked more menacing that way.

He looked towards the biggest entrance of the throne room as his two most faithful servants came galloping in. Thang was running so fast he practically tripped over his own feet, and Stuff had to grab onto his tail to keep him from toppling over.  
Bog almost wanted to laugh at their antics, but his mood was still severely ruined from last night's turmoil and stress. His scouting team still hadn’t returned with news from the border, and he hardly thought a letter would be the thing to arrive.  
They needed better securities and to expand the mushrooms. They’d heard of a skirmish just at the brink of the treelines to the south, but because they needed the shade to survive, their lines of brethren’s hadn’t quite reached out into the clearing to get a look at what had gone down.  
  
Bog’s castle was too deep into the forest for the sound of it to have properly reached him, and so he hadn’t known about it till earlier this morning. And while he _had_ wanted to go and take a look for himself, a fight had broken out between two settlements in the swamp area, and a fire alert had been put out - and a fire was a bigger threat.  
_*How do ye set fire to a swamp anyway?*_

He rose out of his seat and went down the few steps connecting the elevated throne to the main flooring, his wings twitching in agitation as he went. He was tired from flying back and forth between the swamp and the  
castle, and had hoped that this ordeal would have been sorted out by his return, which happened to have been just a few minutes ago.  
He extended the hand that wasn’t currently holding onto his scepter and Thang all but jumped to place the envelope into his palm.

“Any news from the scouts?”

Stuff grew weary and looked at Thang in worry. They clearly knew what had happened.  
“Well?” Bog gruffly affirmed as the two exchanged more looks of nervousness.

“Ahm, a.. battle. Or so it would seem. Several bodies were recovered and it wasn’t just goblins among the gore.” Stuff began while looking at him. Even she was clearly having trouble understanding what had happened last  
night.  
Bog grimaced and tapped his claws against the paper envelope in his hand. Then he noticed it held the royal seal of the Fairfield’s queen. His eyes widened at that as his index claw sliced open the wax to uncover the letter inside the envelope.

“Ah dorn’t suppose it was _fairies_ you recovered as well?” Bog shot them a warning look. He hadn’t had any troubles with the Fairfields since inheriting the throne, but he knew his parents had a terrible accident regarding their old queen. So terrible in fact it had broken the growing alliance with the fairy folk of the fields.

Stuff and Thang exchanged some worried glances and Bog sighed in confirmation. His eyes carefully skimmed over the letter in his hands, and then his mouth thinned before flaring his teeth in a snarl.  
“A _fair trial_ eh? Ah’ll say! Stuff! Thang!”  
  
The two goblins rushed together and stood alert at their names being mentioned in such a commanding manner.   
“Fetch mah mother. She’ll need th’ kno’ that Ah’ll be leavin’ for the fields. Oh, an’ make sure the corpses o’ the fairies are safely transported to th’ fields as well.”  
No matter the insult, bringing them back their dead would be sure to gain him favor. After all, he didn’t know what sort of lunacy he was up against, but blaming him for this gave him a good hint.

The two goblins saluted in understanding and were just about to turn around when a sharp voice was heard behind them;  
“Calm your carapace, I’m right here!”

And true to her claim, in strolled the old Conifer queen herself. Her wild auburn hair bounced as she walked decidedly towards her son and his subjects. “What’s this about leaving for the fields? Did we get invited to something?” Griselda asked cheerfully, and almost hopefully Bog noticed.  
She’d always had a good eye for the field, admiring their way of life and traditions for years. She’d been close friends with queen Helena before her majesty’s untimely death and was always excited to hear news about the Fair fields.

“Well, ye an’ da’ has been invited. Sorta’” Bog said as he handed her the letter. He watched her beady black eyes read its content and saw as her expression changed to a serious one. It looked funny to him in some way; it’d been years since he’d seen her with that specific expression.

“Not again. Seriously, I’m too old for this stuff!” She groaned, handing the letter back to her son in resignation.  
“I’m not going. I will not set foot in that place to be accused of another murder.” She crossed her arms and puffed out her chest. It had been years of course, but old wounds still ran deep and he knew his mother would never quite get over the  tragedy of that day, or the weeks after it.

“Ah dinnae expect you to. Ah’ll go and get things settled. If they kno’ what’s good for ‘em, they’ll leave it a’ that.” Bog tucked the letter into its envelope and turned it over to look at the royal seal. A new queen eh? This would be such a bother. Then again, it sounded like it was the king that was the problem.

“Alright, but be safe. If you need more time over there, write to me. I don’t want to worry about you.” Griselda gently padded the hand of her son as she walked by him to hop onto the throne.

“Aye, I will.” His eyes followed her and a small smile tugged at his lips when he saw her plop down into her old seat. She seemed to still belong there.

“Ah’ll need ye to prepare some burnin’s as well… Stuff an’ Thang will tell ye wha’ happened.” He said somberly.  
He wanted to personally make sure that the bodies got back to their families, but he also trusted his mother to  
sort things out.

“Yes, yes, I’ll handle it. Now go! I’ll take care of things while you’re gone. Oh and, tell Dagda I said _hi_.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Marianne walked nervously through the western gardens, her heels sinking slightly into the soft grass and soil beneath it. She needed to change she reckoned, or at least change her shoes - it wouldn’t look good to be covered in mud if the royals from the Dark Forest arrived tonight.  
The sun was starting to set and her letter had been sent but a few hours earlier, no doubt in the possession of the Conifer king and queen by now.

She’d once again been denied going to the border, and she’d almost lost her temper with the guard that had informed her that the search and rescue team had already dispatched.  
_I am sorry your highness, but the council deems it extremely dangerous out there right now. I was given orders to_ _restrain you, should you choose to go anyway, so please; don’t do this._

  
She was wringing her hands together, biting her lower lip and her heart was going a million miles an hour. The council had once again undermined her position as queen and had taken a decision on her behalf. She knew she could’ve gone out without anyone noticing her, but the council was too scared as it was - going against their  
wishes would just rally them further and push them towards making more dire decisions against her to protect her. Like confining her to the castle with an escort at all times.  
  
The garden and its included maze of hedges led to the Royal Cemetery, where she knew she’d find her father. After she had ascended the throne, king Dagda was relieved of his many duties as ruling monarch and had taken to visiting her mother’s grave much more frequently.  
She had to tell him, how could she not? The last time he’d seen the Conifer king had been a sorrowful occasion, and one that almost ended in war.  
Now the talk of war was most certainly on Roland’s agenda, and she needed to be the one to tell her father, not him.

 _Fairer than the sweetest flower,_ _  
_ _  
_ _Restless as the wildest way._ _  
_ _  
_ _Pored in with love deep as a ocean,_ _  
_ _  
_ _This is the girl that I did win._

Marianne perked up her ears as she heard her father’s voice. It sounded low and calming, and the piece he was singing was deliberately slowed down to match his baritone.  
Her father rarely sang, but she remembered him and her mother singing when she was younger. They would constantly serenade each other, and her mother had told her that finding your one true love would give your heart the need to sing.  
  
She smiled at the memory and listened intently as the words flowed from the old man’s lips;

 _I'll go lay you down and wonder,_ _  
_ _  
_ _Lay aside my earthy gain._ _  
_ _  
_ _All I am undone in riches._ _  
_ _  
_ _Undone in sorrow I'll remain,_ _  
_ _  
_ _Undone in sorrow I'll remain._

As she rounded the corner of one of the many hedges of the maze, she saw her father on his knees in front of the large tombstone that marked her mother’s grave. Behind him, a courtyard had been build, and in its center, a large fountain had been erected. It’s bassin rippled with crystal clear water and in that center stood a statue  
depicting a male fairy wielding a sword while donned in armor.

“Hello, Marianne. How are you this fine evening?” Dagda calmly spoke as he rose to his feet and turned around to greet his eldest daughter.

“We missed you at dinner Dawn and I.” He continued, looking a little sad but nonetheless not surprised. Marianne offered him an apologetic smile as she softened her features. She must’ve looked awfully tense, as her father seemed to relax as well.  
He moved to sit at the edge of the fountain and motioned for Marianne to join him. She walked over and sat down next to him.

“What song was that?” She asked with genuine curiosity.  
Dagda huffed a small laugh and looked towards the giant tombstone. “One I seem to find myself singing more and more often I’m afraid. Still, it feels right, given the circumstances.”

Marianne nodded. She understood all too well how her father felt, her and Dawn too, she knew. And after today she had a few more souls to calm with her melodies at dusk. She just hoped she would get a silent moment to herself to do so before the royalty from the Dark Forest arrived.  
She sighed. That would have to be postponed till they knew if they had any bodies to collect. She couldn’t bear the thought of more empty coffins, but she figured it’d probably become a reality pretty soon.

“Almar, Marcus, David and Freya died today.” Dagda said matter-of-factly. Marianne looked at him as if he’d said the most shocking thing in the world.  
“And you’ve no doubt reached out to the Bog king, am I right?” Dagda looked at her then, one of his eyebrows raised.  
Marianne swallowed once. Wait, the Bog king? Who was -  
“Who?”

Dagda looked at his eldest daughter in genuine confusion. “The.. the king of the Dark Forest? The Bog king? You’ve told him of the tragedy? As I understood Roland was very set on revenge for his fallen soldiers. And I would say so too; Bog needs to learn that actions come with consequences.”

Marianne’s head was reeling and doing double takes at the same time. The Conifer king and queen were dead, or at least no longer ruling anymore? Wait, how come she hadn’t heard?  
Her stomach contracted and expanded all at once. She’d sent a letter addressed to someone whose opinion didn’t… oh, Gods, the Bog king would be furious.

“I… I thought the Conifer king and queen were…” She stammered, clearly lost on what to say at this point. This was so embarrassing! She should have consulted with her dad first instead of stressing the whole day!  
The records hadn’t mentioned any Bog king! Only - wait, their son... Bog! Their son was named Bog and undoubtedly of age by now!  
She threw up her hands and buried her face in them, letting out a loud and long groan. “Of course the first time we reach out to them in centuries I address the wrong ruler!”

Dagda chuckled a little, finally understanding what had his daughter in a tiff. “Oh Marianne, don’t worry! As I understand Griselda is still alive and kicking, and she’d undoubtedly simply laugh at the mix-up!” Dagda patted Marianne on the shoulder, trying to be as reassuring as possible.  
Marianne peeked at him from between her fingers and shot him a strange look.  
  
“Conifer died in battle, or so were the rumors, and left his wife as the sole ruler before their son took to the throne. Bog hasn’t attempted to make contact at all, and besides for the memories I have of him from when he was a kid, I don’t know much about him.” Dagda explained. He looked a little somber while speaking, almost as if he regretted something.

Marianne removed her hands and thought about her father’s words for a minute. Then she remembered the second half of her father's initial comment and grimaced.

“Roland is _claiming_ goblins attacked his search party, yet the only ones to survive were Roland himself and _his_ men. You know they’d say anything to support him dad!” She tried, but she knew by now that her father supported Roland to the bitter end.  
She figured he saw himself in the blonde fool. Young, ambitious, and one to have married their way into the royal family. Roland was nothing like Dagda though, and Marianne just wished her father wasn’t so gullible.

“Marianne, please. Roland wouldn’t risk war, or conflict for that matter, for a minor misunderstanding! I’m sure you’re seeing ghosts.” Dagda said in a scolding voice, and it made Marianne almost lose herself with the old man.  
“There is no misunderstanding! I’m sure of it! They were attacked... I believe that, but by goblins? Dad, what reasons would this, _Bog,_ have to attack? Why now?”

Dagda looked towards the tombstone once more, his eyes contemplative.  
“I don’t know.” He simply said, his tone that of someone who was tired of conflicts in general.  
“But I do know that you need to stop fighting Roland like this. Even if he’s not the husband you envisioned, there is simply too much at stake!” Dagda was still keeping his eyes on the tombstone, and Marianne felt her heart flinch.  
Even after everything that had happened, she still had to remember that her marriage had been a political one. Deals were made, and her people depended on her to uphold her end of them.  
That was why she needed to wait for Roland to screw himself over. It didn’t mean that she had to stop fighting him though.

Marianne calmed herself and once again let her shoulders sag, a sigh escaping her as she followed her father’s gaze. Whatever was going to happen wasn’t going to be easy. But she’d do her best, as queen and as a friend to the fallen.  
She wouldn’t believe Roland till she’d heard the Bog king’s version of the story.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The sun had set and the moon had started its ascent into the sky before Bog reached the castle of the Fairfields. He’d managed to grab a quick morsel before the flight, as to not arrive tired _and_ hungry. His wings ached as he landed in the courtyard leading to what he believed to be the main entrance. Sure were some big doors guarding  
this castle - still, a skull would probably work better against their enemies in terms of intimidation.  
Would probably surprise them too.

The two guards situated at each side of the door perked up as he landed, and they straightened themselves up. They looked between each other and noticeably swallowed. Bog smirked to himself as he made his way over to them, scepter in hand and wings buzzing.

“Evenin’ lads, ah’m here to see yer queen.” He showed them the envelope still clad with the royal sealed, albeit broken. The guards took turns to scan the surface of it, nodded between each other, and then one drew a damn messengers horn from a satchel at his side.

The sound tore through the otherwise calm evening, and Bog had to fight himself to not cover his ears.  
_*Blimey, could ye be any louder!?*_

The guard then nodded at Bog and moved aside as the giant doors opened before them all. Inside were even more guards all dressed up in shining green armor, and Bog thanked the skies for his natural armor, as it could only be a major bother to put all those pieces on every day. Not to mention having to remove them after every shift too.  
He stepped inside and noticed how all the men and women around him straightened up and looked as stern as they could. He wanted to laugh as he saw one’s legs literally shake with the effort, but he kept his face straight and unbothered.

Minutes passed before wings could be heard from one of the main corridors, and Bog straightened to his full height before a woman donning a long flowing dress in golden hues entered. Her wings were a dark purple and complimented the dress, and Bog looked her up and down with an uncertain expression.  
Her eyes were brown and shone in a golden hue, almost as golden as her attire, and they held no fear. A slight apprehension perhaps, but Bog found himself in a staring contest with the lady before him and found that he might lose.  
Then he noticed the crown upon her head and it all clicked - so this was their queen. And some queen indeed.  
  
A few feet behind her flew a male fairy. This one was dressed in a fancy version of the armor the guards wore, and his eyes were hard and nervous as they bore into Bog’s own. His wings were a dull brown and orange, and  
Bog figured the queen’s dress was selected to match the king’s wings. For this was the king, though the only thing that gave it away was the crown on his head.

Bog knew his mother would scold him if he slighted the royalty of the fields, and so he gave a quick bow towards them both.  
Still, as the queen’s king settled beside her, Bog couldn’t help but jitter his wings at him as he straightened himself back up.  
And it didn’t go unnoticed as the king hurried to make sure his crown was safely deposited on his boyish blonde curls.

“Yer majesties. Ye requested mah presence, so here ah’am.” Bog didn’t try to calm his brogue, knowing full well what effect it had on those who weren’t used to it. Rightfully so the king made a face of confusion and fear, but the queen simply offered him a courtesy in return and a strong smile.

“Thank you for coming in such short notice. I hope it wasn’t too inconvenient?” The queen tried, but Bog couldn’t help but feel pure anger at her words.

“Ah must say; is’ never convenient to be accused of _breaking_ the peace treaty. O’ course, ye would’na do so without proof, would ye?”

The queen before him shivered slightly and gave her husband a look of disdain. Ah, so the letter had spoken truthfully after all, perhaps this wasn’t a lost cause then.

“We mean no disrespect. I wrote the letter, and perhaps I should not have been so crude. I’m afraid it was a spur of the moment. If you’d allow us; we’d want to settle this the proper way?”  
The female fairy held one hand out in a gentle offering, and Bog raised a brow at it.

“Just ta’ be sure; ye’d like to settle it with me, and not the ghost of mah father?” He walked a few paces towards the royal couple, his mouth a thin, hard line as he held the queens gaze.  
  
“Another mistake on my part - I was not aware that the Conifer king had passed.” She offered. Hm, this one could hold her ground it seemed, no shaking her.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

On the inside, Marianne was screaming at the top of her lungs. He was here, he was actually here, and he was  _tall._ Immensely so, and he would no doubt tower over her if he came too close. She’d have to keep her distance  
while working out the peace. If she seemed too small she’d lose her grip and start babbling.  
_*Okay, keep calm. He’s obviously here to work out some sort of peace. Just keep talking!*_

A fluttering at her side reminded her that Roland was there, and before she could react he’d spoken rather rudely to their guest;  
“Me _and_ some of my most skilled soldiers were _attacked at your borders!_ A-and by _your_ goblins nonetheless! What is there to discuss? I was there! I saw the whole thing, er I mean, I fought beside them! _Your goblin’s_ lured us into an ambush by creating that ruckus last night!”

Marianne wanted to hit him, oh how she wanted to sack Roland right in his perfect teeth, but that simply wouldn’t do - too much of a scandal, so she had to do something else, and fast.  
But before she could do anything at all the Bog king rose into the air, his dragonfly wings shining like iridescent liquid in the light of the moon coming in from the open main doors. The sight made Marianne’s breath hitch and her heart stop for a second - oh but how he looked like a true king of the forest then, and the sight was both terrifying and fascinating at the same time.

“ _HOW DARE YE!?_ ” He heaved his scepter and pointed it towards Roland. In its center was the biggest piece of amber Marianne had ever seen. It shone like gold and Marianne could almost feel the power it held.  
The guards around them spurred into action. Some drew swords, other aimed their spears, but the largest reaction came from Roland himself, who drew his own sword and pulled Marianne behind him to shield her.  
  
The seconds ticked by in tense apprehension and everyone in the room looked as if they’d been frozen in place. Roland’s wings were quivering slightly, and Marianne thought she noticed a slight pull at his lips from behind him  
\- almost as if he was keeping back a smile.  
Had he counted on the Bog king to be insulted? Was he aiming for a fight?

Marianne wanted to panic; if the Bog king assaulted Roland her husband would have the upper hand. Goblins were known to be fierce and aggressive, and Roland would undoubtedly use this against the Bog king if a trial was to be held.  
  
But nothing happened. The Bog king simply hovered there, his wings buzzing wildly behind him as he stood at a standstill with her idiotic husband. Neither made a move after several seconds, and Marianne figured Roland didn’t dare and the Bog king truly wasn’t interested in picking a fight with him.  
Right as she was, the king lowered his scepter slightly and shot Roland a deadly glare.

“Ye best control yerself, _king_ . Ah will no’ take kindly to these accusations. Mah people were found dead too among the remains o’ yers. Dead; with no reason to be so.”

He lowered himself on the ground again, and Marianne instinctively followed him, leaving Roland to hover in the air above them. Roland descended but didn’t touch down onto the floor, no doubt thinking it’d intimidate the king before them if he stayed airborne. Marianne guessed not much could.

Marianne walked out from beneath Roland, as close as she dared to the goblin, and spoke with as much control as she could muster;

“My condolences for your losses, and my apologies for my husband's blatant accusations.” She nodded her head towards the Bog king, but he did not react. She tried again; “If what you say is true, then I believe we are at a standstill at this point?” She looked back at Roland with a hard glare.  
“Without proof from either side - “  
  
“Proof? You want proof honey bear? _I was there, my men were there.”_ She felt Roland land beside her and then he put his arm on her shoulder.  
“You know, the men that survived? A third party? Eligible to testify for me? They were witnesses, and they have wounds to prove of their participation.” Roland flashed his pearly white teeth in mock at the goblin.

The Bog king all but sneered, his crooked fangs gleaming in the moonlight, and his ice-cold eyes glared daggers into Roland’s smug face.  
“Even if tha’ is so, I dinnae order the attack. Surely ye would nah’ want to start a conflict based on _one_ rouge parteh of goblins, _would ye?_ ” the Bog king smirked back.

Roland wouldn’t be so stupid. He simply wouldn’t, and Marianne knew the council wouldn’t agree to it either.

Something came over Roland then, a flash of worry filled his eyes for a few seconds, and Marianne thought he’d looked panicked for some reason. This was turning out in her favor, _and_ in the king of the Dark Forest’s no doubt.  
She knew with almost full certainty that the Bog king did not want a war at this point - he really was just here to clear his name.  
But then the worry faded and Roland aimed the Bog king with a charming smile.

“Is that so? I. Am. So sorry then! I was sure the goblins had screamed something like, _for the king!_ \- or something like that. Well, can’t help your subjects loving you so much, can you?”

Roland all but strolled over to the opposing king, stopping a few feet from him and gliding a hand through his hair. The Bog king looked at him with suspicion, his eyes narrowed and his lips thinned. Marianne almost felt sorry for him, but mostly she also felt confusion for Roland’s sudden change in behaviour.  
What was he getting at? If he was so quick to concede, then what had he wanted out of this whole ordeal? Surely not to pester a neighbouring monarch?

“It’s late though, isn’t it? You came all this way for a misunderstanding! I am so sorry, let me repay you by offering you a room for the night and a feast in the morning? To part ways in good faith?”

Marianne’s eyes widened. He wanted the Bog king to stay through the night? _Roland_ wanted a _goblin_ to stay at his castle? Truth be told she didn’t want to send the Bog king on his way at this hour and would have offered him a room  
herself, but when it came from Roland it just seemed… wrong.

“An’ wha’ makes ye think ah’d want to stay _here?_ First, ye insult me, then ye want to _pamper me?_ Wha’ exactly are ye getting at?!” The Bog king all but snarled, his posture changing to looming as he bowed himself over at the shoulders and flared his wings slightly.  
“Ah came here to clear me and mah people’s name, _not play house.”_

Marianne’s blood ran cold as ice down her veins, and she felt nauseous. Roland on the other hand simply smiled wider and took one decisive step closer towards the goblin.

“Well, I didn’t expect you to be the type to hold a grudge! Seems rather, I dunno, unprofessional?” Roland drawled as he looked at the guards behind the Bog king. They all seemed to take great interest in the battle of the two king’s, and Marianne was sure Roland was having a blast showing off for them.  
  
Well! That certainly was Marianne’s queue, and just in time too as the Bog king’s shoulder plates vibrated once more, the hand holding his scepter heaving slightly and his teeth barring.

“Please!” She stepped between the two once more and opened her wings slightly.  
  
A brawl in the middle of the entrance hall in front of all these guards would do little good, and Marianne knew the Bog king would come out as losing - even if he kicked Roland’s ass. The council would be concerned that goblins were nothing but malicious, and apparently, that notion was enough for Roland to goad the Bog king on like this.  
Clever, very clever, but Marianne would not have a scandal like that happen any time soon, and she would certainly not give Roland enough collateral to start a war.

“Your Excellency, I am _so_ sorry! I beg of you, please accept our apology! We do _not_ wish to offend you!” She shot Roland a dangerous look, but he simply chuckled at her and looked at the guards, rolling his eyes as if to say;  _she’s a little feisty tonight it seems_ .  
Oh, she would handle him later, but right now;

“Please, your majesty, please accept _my_ apology. And if you would consider… it is quite late. Give us the honor of accommodating you for the night? I’d hate to have you fly back after this embarrassing incident.”

Marianne looked into the Bog’s king eyes and held his gaze for several seconds before any of them made a move. The king visibly swallowed, and Marianne thought she saw something flash over his eyes.  
She nodded at him and offered a small smile;  
“Give me the chance to make things right?”

The Bog king softened slightly, rolled his shoulders and looked to the side. He cleared his throat.  
“H-hm, well. If ye so insist, aye, ah’ll stay. But only for one night, an’ Ah’ll be gone before midday.”

“Perfect! Thank you so much your highness!” Roland stepped in front of Marianne, and she had to hold herself back from visibly and audibly growling at him. Oh, but she would have to have a talk with him later alright.  
  
Roland extended his hand towards the Bog king who, before eyeing it suspiciously for some time, took it and shook it.  
“Wow, strong grip there! I like it!” Roland shook his hand and grimaced slightly after the Bog king let it go, and Marianne thought she noticed the Bog king smirking slightly.  
“Now, if you’d follow my wife, I’m sure she can situate you in proper accommodations!”

At that, he turned to Marianne and gave her a commanding look. She glared daggers at him but went over to take his place before the goblin king.  
She didn’t like that Roland seemingly was getting what he wanted anyway, as just a few minutes prior he looked like he’d lost everything. He was playing a game of sorts, and Marianne had to figure out the rules before everything got out of hand.  
  
Roland turned around one last time and shot them all a charming smile.  
“I will be unavailable for the rest of the evening, but if there’s an emergency - simply let the staff know and they’ll let _me_ know.”  
He looked at Marianne and flashed his teeth in a mock grin “I don’t suppose I’ll be seeing you tonight babycakes?”

Marianne kept her posture and simply shook her head. “I’m afraid not, I have some matters to attend to. I’ll stay by my study.”  
He nodded, looked at the Bog king one last time, and then he turned and walked through the same hallway they’d both entered from earlier.

Marianne released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d held and blinked.  
This situation was getting more and more strange. She knew Roland was trying to get to her, to make a crack appear in her mask, but she’d managed to hold it together for the time being.  
  
A sudden movement at her side caught her attention, and she turned to look straight into the ice blue eyes of the king of the Dark Forest. He’d taken the last few steps towards her and now stood close enough that she could make out the texture of his carapace.  
Marianne had to fight herself so as to not panic, because right at this moment she didn’t know what she should say, and she didn’t want to insult him further.

But it turned out she didn’t have to say anything at all as the Bog king simply nodded at her and said;  
“Lead the way yer highness.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

After some consideration, Marianne had found it wise to keep the Bog king as far away from Roland as possible, and close to herself as she could. She didn’t want him to disappear in the middle of the night, and she didn’t want  
Roland to intimidate him further, so she’d chosen a smaller chamber close to her own quarters where she could keep an eye on him.  
Damn be the way the servants would talk in the morning, but she could talk her way out of any rumors - besides, it was natural for royal guests to reside close to the reigning couple. Even if the reigning couple wasn’t sleeping in the same room.

She had therefore led the king to a set of double doors of oakwood in a wide hallway and now stood nervously beside him, unsure of how to proceed.  
Marianne noticed that she had been right in her assumptions from earlier. Standing next to him like this made her feel extremely small and out of ways. She didn’t feel quite as intimidated as she’d expected to though, and elected to believe that nerves had created the illusion of him being dangerous and menacing.

“Here we are. I hope you find it suitable.”  
She opened the doors to reveal a large room carved in stone. At the far-end wall was an opening with a balcony that overlooked the eastern fields, and the border of the Dark Forest.  
There was a king sized bed, a dressing table, a dresser and a small round table with two chairs on either side. A door at the left lead to a washing room and Marianne figured that with everything he could possibly need situated in the same room, the king wouldn’t leave the room until he was summoned.  
Then again, what did she know about the ways of a goblin?

She saw his eyes scan the room, and then he nodded.  
“It will suffice. Thank you.”

He offered her a solemn look and stepped inside, and Marianne figured it must have been a stressful day for him too. She knew all to well about the hardships of ruling a kingdom, and being summoned here had undoubtedly put that on hold for him, so she found that she couldn’t help but feel bad as she noticed how he hunched over  
and leaned into his scepter for support.

“If you… want to talk, eh, my quarters are located down this hallway.” She pointed down the hallway to her left as the king turned around to look at her. He lifted a brow at her and Marianne figured he hadn’t understood her  
meaning.  
“I’m sure you must have a lot of questions…” She added with a smile.  
He smirked at her, his crooked fangs showing once more and a shiver ran down her spine at the sight of them.  
_*Goblin alright. I bet those could tear the flesh off of bones with little effort.*_

“A little late for a chamber visit, dont’ya think yer highness?”

Marianne grew a dark pink as she caught _his_ meaning right away, and she swore she could feel the tip of her ears heating up.  
_*Don’t let him intimidate you - stay calm!*_

“Ah well.. um, the servants are always available, if you need anything. Well, goodnight then.” She said as calmly as possible, thought she still felt she was rambling, and then she hurridly turned to go down the hallway that led to her sleeping chamber, her pulse racing in her ears high enough for her to miss his reciprocated goodnight in return.


	6. Chapter 4 - Deal

Bog stood at the balcony and sighed as he let the night breeze roll over his tired frame. There was no way he was going to sleep in a hostile castle, so, though he was sure he’d pay for it in the morning, he forced himself to stay awake.

So far the fairies lived up to his expectations; loud, arrogant, colorful and sorta fragile looking. The king was a prime example of a fool dressed up as a ruler, and Bog had a hard time understanding how the bastard hadn’t burned down the Fields already.  
The king was nothing but a child playing with fire, and if he got on Bog’s nerves any more than he already had, Bog would make sure that he did end up burning to a crisp.

The queen was a whole nother story. She seemed like the reasonable of the two and actually acted like someone of royal descent. She hadn’t invited him to her kingdom to fight, and Bog didn’t understand why she’d let that king of hers act the way he did.  
Well, it wasn’t his place to understand to be fair. As a matter of fact, all he had to do was survive this nightmare, settle the dispute they all seemed to find themselves bickering about, and then return home to his people.  
Gods knew what his mother would do to “lighten” up the castle while he was gone. He’d have to search every corner of his home for her _decorations_ when he came back.

He rubbed at his eyes and let out a grumbled sigh. For thirteen years he had ruled over the Dark Forest, and for thirteen years things had seemed relatively peaceful. No major threats, besides for a few challengers of the throne, but those were all goblin related.  
He hadn’t had to deal with fairies at all, and Bog found himself out of his reach. He didn’t know how to act around these people! Didn’t know what would set them off, didn’t know what was deemed an insult, and definitely didn’t know what was expected of him to do!  
He growled to himself in frustration. He had hoped he would never have to deal with fairies. The world was better off without fairies and goblins interacting anyway. The Dark Forest was better off on its own - end of story.

A solemn tune crawled its way towards Bog from his left, and he straightened up from his hunched-over position at the balcony. Looking in the direction of the voice did him no good, as no one was out and about aside from himself.  
He looked towards the gardens below, the darkness clouding any movements to the untrained eye, but Bog was a goblin and had no trouble scouting ahead. A thick fog had made its claim of the landscape, shrouding the many  
flowers and bushes in a ghostly shawl, and the scene reminded him of his home.  
He looked towards the treelines of his forest, but before he could dwell on the way the wind rustled the leaves of the treetops and how nostalgic it made him feel, the disembodied voice started a new verse.

Bog let go of the stone wall that acted as railing for the balcony and looked towards his left again. Nothing in the gardens, nothing in the air, yet the voice floated to him loud and clear almost as if wanting to lull him to sleep.

_Good mornin, my darlin, I said from the door,_

_My bags are all packed, you wont see me anymore._

_The room it was empty except for your clothes,_

_And a picture of the forest through the dimly lit smoke_

Bog thought he sensed anguish in the owner of the voice, but he disregarded the notion in favor of standing as still as possible so as to not disturb it. It was at this point pretty clear to him that the song came from the balcony several feet away from his own, though the room it was adjoined with was dark and void of life.

As soon as the thought left him, a candle flickered to life from somewhere inside, and Bog remembered how the queen had spoken of her quarters being close to his own chamber. He stiffened.

_Did you sleep well?  
  
_ _  
_ _Did you sleep fine?_  
  


_Did you sleep much at all?_

_  
_ _All night I heard two voices from out here in the hall._

_  
_ _The first one was lonesome and the second one was clear,_

_  
_ _The first one was familiar as the second drew near._

Bog swallowed. The queen seemed rather... distressed, and the tune she had opted to sing at around four in the morning seemed extremely out of place for such a _fine_ morning. Or perhaps it fit all the same, but did he really care?  
Bog found the melody, and more importantly, the one who was so beautifully bringing it to life mesmerized him.

Almost like a child enchanted by the soft words of a doting mother right before bedtime, Bog found himself swaying slightly while his wings quivered, his head still fixed at the barren balcony.  
If he believed in fate it was almost as if the stony appendage of the castle wanted its queen there, to stand so very close, yet so far from him. Bog did not know why he felt that way. Perhaps it was because he truly had questions to ask and inquiries to make. Or perhaps he just wanted to talk to someone that   
possessed even an ounce of reason and common sense.

_She walked to the window to expose the light_

_  
_ _Her breath hung in silence like the fog in the night_

_  
_ _The sun raised its head from behind the frost_

_  
_ _She sat down by the stove with her long legs crossed_

No need to be a fool now. You’re simply tired, and this is all an illusion created by your insomniatic mind.

But then she did appear, and Bog heard himself take in a quick bout of air as he saw her. From her shoulders hung a white shoal made of spiders silk, and through it Bog could see a white nightgown that fit the queen to a tee. It all but caressed the curves of her waist and clung to her breast, but it didn’t look suffocating or clinging in  
anyway - it was perfect for her.  
Her brown hair stood wild and untamed around her profile, and Bog wished for just a whisper of a second that he could see her eyes.  
Wait, what?  
  
He shook his head as his cheeks flushed. What was wrong with him?!  
Sure the queen was pleasant on the eyes, for a fairy anyway, but why would his brain conjure up such desires? He barely knew her! Besides, he had no time nor need for distractions at this point, and the sooner he was out of  
here the better.  
There was no way she’d humor his fascination anyway, as he was all crooked lines and sharp corners. Not fit for any queen, and not fit for the affection of anyone - he’d decided a long time ago that he was destined for solitude.

_Did you sleep well?_

_  
_ _Did you sleep fine?_

_  
_ _Did you sleep much at all?_

_  
_ _All night I heard two voices from out here in the hall._

_  
_ _The first one was ancient but the second was a gun,_

_  
_ _The first one was laughing before the second was done._

_*Who hurt ye?*_

The queen bowed her head as she reached the end of her balcony, her hands grabbing onto the railing, and Bog felt his own hands retrace their previous steps to collide with his own railing once again. He felt the icy touch of the stone on his skin, and goosebumps traveled up his arms as he kept his eyes on the fairy.  
She didn’t look like someone who’d just woken up. Then again, he could hardly make out her face from this distance in the dark, the balconies being at least thirty feet apart, and her hair obscured most of it. She did have a  
certain air around her though, like she was buzzing with energy, but not the energy of someone well rested.  
\- More like the energy of someone who hadn't rested well for years.

_Will you sleep well?_

_Will you sleep fine?_

_  
_ _Will you sleep much at all?_

_  
_ _All night you’ll hear two voices from out there in the hall._

_  
_ _The first will be a mirror and the second one a dove,_  
  


_The first will be an echo and the second silent love._

Her majesty’s wings hung limply behind her as they quivered ever so slightly, and Bog found that his own wings had started to buzz in reaction. Just small, jittery movements, but movements nonetheless, and before he knew it the queen had cast her eyes towards his balcony.  
Bog figured she hadn’t expected to see him there, for the second she focused on him her form all but stilled and froze up.  
He could tell her eyes were wide, why, they almost reflected the moonlight towards him, and Bog could do little to ease the tension himself. His own joints had locked up and refused to move, his throat had run out of words to speak, and for the longest time, the two simply stared at one another - caught in what seemed like an endless maze of uncertainty.

“I-” The lady before him started, but her mouth simply proceeded to hang open, words clearly escaping her too. The one syllable word was enough to break Bog out of _his_ stupor though, and as all movement made it back into his limbs he had to catch himself from stumbling.  
He turned his entire body towards her, extended his left hand and left it palm-up in front of him, but kept his right on the railing for support.

“Ah, Ah dinnae.. Ah mean, tha’ is… wh-”  
Great. Now he sounded like a fool. What did one say when you’d been caught eavesdropping? Not like he hadn’t been outside first, and he was not trespassing, but the moment still felt personal and special to the queen, and so he felt like an alien object in her perfect picture.  
Deciding that there was probably nothing he _could_ say that would salvage the situation, he cleared his throat and quickly turned around to walk back into his borrowed room.

“C-Couldn’t sleep?”

The words didn’t come out as angry or scandalized, and Bog stopped dead in his tracks, one foot still extended in front of the other. He turned slowly, afraid that is he acted too fast he might scare or anger her, and met the queen’s eyes with what was undoubtedly a nervous tint in his own.  
She didn’t _look_ angry. In fact, she had turned towards him fully now, her hands folded in front of her and she had moved towards the side of her own balcony that was facing his. Her face sported a gentle smile and her eyes were just as golden as Bog remembered from earlier.  
He swallowed.

“Mah apologies, Ah dinnae mean to disturb ye.”

She sighed and he noticed her shoulders sag. Had he said something wrong?  
“Don’t apologize, you’ve done nothing wrong.”  
Well, that was better than what he’d expected. Perhaps fairies were not so prissy when it came to their privacy as he initially thought. She turned her head towards his forest, her gaze carefully scanning over the treetops and then it shut up towards the moon above them in an elegant stride.  
Bog followed her line of sight, not quite sure what she was looking for. He looked back towards her, but those golden spheres didn’t return to meet his own.

“I am very sorry for the way my husband treated you today. And I am sorry for not intervening sooner.”  
She laughed, but it wasn’t a cheerful laugh, more like a mocking one.  
“Some queen I am...”

Bog scoffed, and while he was still looking at her intently, she did not look back.  
“To be fair yer majesty, even ah dinnae kno’ wha’ to do in the face of yer husband.”  
She grimaced and Bog had to be quick to salvage the situation;

  
“So in mah’ opinion, you handled it well. Ye seem t’ be the only one here not asking fer a fight.” She smiled at that. It was a small restrained smile, but Bog would take it if it meant that she felt better.  
She was young after all and didn’t deserve such hardships as him being bitter about being invited here. She’d have plenty of time to experience everything bad that queenship held at a later point.

“I must admit. I hoped you would be awake. Silly as that sound, I-”  
She lowered her gaze towards the gardens beneath them, and before Bog could even hope to contemplate the meaning behind the first part of the sentence she spoke again;  
“I will never get used to it, and I wanted someone to talk to about it with.”

She looked at him then - “Death.”

  
The word sounded wrong on her tongue like she’d uttered it with much disdain and difficulty. Then again, who wouldn't? Death wasn’t something to celebrate after all.  
Bog nodded, his expression kept as neutral as possible. He didn’t want to seem affected. As a goblin, sentimentality could get you killed, in fact; he hadn’t met many settlements where that sentiment didn’t hold true.  
Perhaps it wasn’t like that for fairies though?

“Most people around here do not take it serious enough. I suppose it’s mainly because the people of my kingdom die of old age or disease.” She said, and Bog thought he could see her wrinkle her nose in disdain.

“They are lucky then.” He muttered.

She looked at him with an embarrassed and horrified look - “Oh! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean anythi-” He quickly held up his left hand to cut her off as he chuckled.  
“Ah take it yer people do nah’ march into battle very often?”

She seemed to relax then. “No. And that’s exactly the problem. They take death too lightly! One day they will need to fight, and they will risk dying at the end of a weapon far too quickly…”  
She shut her eyes and tightened her brow, her face pained and distraught. She lifted her arms to wrap them around herself, one on each shoulder, and Bog felt an unnerving need to comfort her.

“I mean, they’ve done it before. My ancestors fought valiantly to secure our lands, and our armies have never lost their courage. But at this point, anyone that has experienced the bigger wars has perished. And there’s only so much a legacy can prepare you for. They will have to fight, and they _will_ have to face the blade of death one way  
or another.”   
She let her arms fall to her sides once again with a huff.

“I hope it won’t be at the end of your blade though.” She snuck a sideways peek at him and her eyes showed honesty and plea.  
If he had _any_ doubt of her intentions earlier, they were all gone now. This wasn’t a person that ached for war, this was a person that ached for peace.

Bog once again turned his eyes towards the moon. Perhaps it did hold some answers, or perhaps it would simply stay silent as always, looking down upon this spectacle of a freakshow beneath it. If Noctis herself did reside on its surface, he sure hoped she was getting a load of all this. Must be the only fun she ever got.

“Ah will nah be the one to declare war.” He swallowed and kept his eyes on the gleaming sphere in the sky.  
“But ye best get that husband o’ yers under control.” He tried to let it sound slightly humoristic, but he didn’t hear her react in any way.

And he didn’t see what sort of movement the queen made, but he heard a shift and a shuffle instead before he looked towards her balcony.  
His heart stopped as he saw the long white shoal dance in his peripheral vision, the fabric almost encasing the two as she landed before him. Her wings were silent and gentle, yet held enough strength to bring her towards him without him even noticing.  
Before he could blink, Bog caught the movement of the queen’s right hand as she extended it towards him. She wasn’t inappropriately close, but close enough that Bog could sense the heat coming off of her.  
“Deal?” She said. He noticed a faint pink hue to her cheeks and ears, and Bog thought he himself must be beaming red at this point.  
  
What was it about this one that got him so on edge? And it wasn’t even in a bad way!? He looked at her hand, scanning it as if to uncover any traps hidden beneath that silken smooth skin.  
Then he brought up his own right hand and gently shook hers.

“Deal.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Marianne was shaking all over as she touched down onto the floor of her own room. She was holding onto the hand that, minutes ago, had grasped the hand of the Bog king himself, and she could feel how the limb was shaking.  
She’d initially been surprised at how gentle his hold was, and her heart had picked up speed at the feel of his calloused skin against her own.  
Now; her skin was not smooth at all. Years of handling a blade almost every day had made her hard and rough, but the texture of _him_ had been something entirely different against the layers of hardened skin she’d accumulated.  
It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling though, and Marianne felt the small electric pinpricks of goosebumps were still present on her arms and the back of her neck even now.  
She tried to calm her breathing - * _in out, in out; c’mon Marianne, get a hold of yourself!*_

Oh but she’d gone and done it now, hadn’t she? SHE WENT TO HIS ROOM! Well, not his _room_ per say, but still; if anyone had entered and found them together like that under the moonlight, well, Marianne would be screwed several ways till Sunday to put it lightly.

And had she been singing? _Oh Gods_ she had, hadn’t she? AND THERE WAS NO WAY HE HADN’T HEARD HER!  
She’d been in her study for the better half of the night, a place she could usually be alone and undisturbed for as long as she desired, and this had momentarily made her forget her guest in the room next to hers. The door connecting her study to her bedchamber had been open, in case she felt the urge to just plop down into  
bed, but it had never come, and Marianne had tried to calm herself by humming some old tunes.

Her mind had drifted to Roland at some point, and her skin had flared with irritation and regret, and before she knew it she’d sung a song of deceit and new beginnings. Her heart had been wishing out loud again.  
_I must admit... I hoped you would be awake... So sorry about my husband... Some queen I am..._

Where the HELL had all that come from?! How was _that_ the best way to counter the fact that he’d heard her sing about her cheating husband?! Well, of course, she had wanted to talk to him in private at some point, but that was to discuss the political side of it all, not share her most treacherous feelings with him!  
Marianne was pretty sure it hadn’t come out as political, especially not with her dressed in her _nightgown under_ _the freaking moon in total privacy!_  
No that, ohoho _that_ , had a totally different vibe to it, and Marianne felt herself go crimson at the thought of it.

Well, he hadn’t mocked her about it at least. Roland would have probably tried to belittle her, tell her that it wasn’t her fault that she’d acted that way, that the pressure of being queen was probably too much for her. That she should let him handle it because he was a _man_ .  
But the Bog king hadn’t. He’d… well, he’d answered her as an equal? And he’d... praised her?  
_Ye handled it well._

That was something she wasn’t too used to hearing from the men around her. The closest she’d been to praise from her husband or council was when the food and music had been good at a festival, or she’d hosted a specifically well-arranged ball at the castle.  
But not from him. He was different, and Marianne could feel something stir in her gut, and more frighteningly, in her _heart._

It wasn’t as if he was the ugliest thing she’d ever seen either. Rough around the edges, certainly naturally grumpy and somewhat aloof, but he also seemed to have a certain amount of passion hidden in those scales of his.  
He seemed like the kind of person who’d protect his people at all cost, and he certainly didn’t seem to take kindly to being falsely accused.  
Then, of course, no one did.

He was tall, that much anyone could see, and his exterior seemed prickly and off-putting. She wondered if the outer shell of his body was part of him, or some sort of armor that he could remove.  
It had looked fleshy in some parts, but then like acorn shells in other parts, and Marianne couldn’t help but be fascinated.  
She’d never been this close to a goblin before, but she was fairly certain he wasn’t… a normal goblin.

The records held illustrations of the most common kind of goblins. The toads, the bulls, the snails, the beetles, and the slugs, just to name a few. There were several sub-species in each category, and if Marianne were to place the Bog king, she would file him under beetle.  
But even with pictures of almost fifty different goblin species and sub-species, Marianne hadn’t encountered one quite like Bog in her study sessions.

The closest in resemblance to him was his father, the Conifer king. Conifer had had an outer shell much resembling that of a bull beetle, but he had also been tall with strong legs and heavily armored limbs. He also had the color of a bull beetle, and the Bog king was therefore very pale compared to his father.  
The illustrations hadn’t shown the Conifer kings wings in full detail, but he certainly had them, and this was a trait rare to goblins.  
There weren’t any details on those piercing blue eyes of his though, and Marianne wondered if they’d come from his mother.  
The Conifer queen had been classified as a mixed breed, but not a rare one. A quite common one actually after years of breeding those certain genes down the bloodlines, and she was classified as a bull/toad/beetle goblin. Short and stout, but with powerful horns that hadn’t been passed on to her son.  
  
Marianne all but shuddered at the thought of the Bog king with a set of huge horns on each side of his leafy head.  
  
The Conifer queen also had hair. A rare trait for goblins, as most kind were covered in a protective mucus to keep their skin from tearing in the harsh environment of the forest. Perhaps that was where the gene for the leafy texture had come from?

Marianne paced the length of her bedchamber, still holding onto the hand that had touched his earlier. No he certainly wasn’t ugly, more like a rough kind of handsome - wait what?  
_*Get a hold of yourself! This is just the lonely and revengeful part of your brain speaking, don’t stoop to Roland’s_ _level!*_

No, she couldn't. She _mustn’t._

  
She had neglected Roland for years, dismissing his every attempt of getting her to come to bed with him. He knew full well that she knew what he’d done, and yet he still had the audacity to expect her to say yes?!  
But with the cold turkey of her sensual company she’d forced upon him, then also came the primal needs of her own body and how she’d shut them down.  
At this point, some of the excess energy her body was vibrating with wasn’t only from stress, and Marianne had to opt to pleasure herself several times a week to get it to calm down.  
  
The sparring with her guards had done her wonders, as her frustrations could come out without it seeming too obvious, and while she didn’t have any romantic feelings towards her now deceased comrades, the bare minimum of skin-to-skin contact the fights had given her, had kept something much more disastrous at bay.

Her body was of flesh and blood, and worse yet it had been accustomed to a certain level of copulation before Roland’s deceit. And for years she had denied herself any real action.

_*That’s all it is. You’re lonely, you’re pent up, your friends have just died and you crave the comfort of another.*_

Surely it wasn’t anything else.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Bog groggily cracked open an eye to look around his room. He scanned over the interior, and when he didn’t recognize any of the furniture he all but jumped out of the kingsized flowerhead that was dangling from the ceiling. It was deep purple rose he had found himself to have passed out on, and while he regrettably discovered he now smelled _excessively_ sweet, he also remembered where he was.

The king, the killings, the castle. Oh, Gods but hadn’t that been a rather unpleasant experience, and for multiple reasons other than the obvious. He took notice that the sun was starting to creep over the forest in the distance outside, and figured it must be about six in the morning. When did he fall asleep?

He’d talked briefly with the queen last night, and the balcony scene played back in his head at full speed. They’d been alone and there had been moonlight.  
The itching in his scales from last night came hurtling back at him, and he now remembered hurrying back inside his borrowed chamber, splashing his face with water from the basin in the washroom, and then promptly passing out from sheer exhaustion and turmoil.  
  
He didn’t even remember hitting the bed, but he did faintly remember feeling way out of his league. He also remembered how his blood had boiled at the contact of the fairy’s skin, and how he wished he’d never left the Dark Forest in the first place.

He wasn’t as young and vigil anymore as he’d been. In fact, his body felt old and hardened, and his soul ancient and tired, but his body had nonetheless flared up last night. Love was one thing to write off.   
After the incident many years ago, Bog had opted to never let himself fall prey to the swift blade of love ever again, but that apparently didn’t mean that his body could not feel the most basic attraction anymore.

The queen was beautiful. Goblin standards were one thing, but he could tell she was admirable from a fairy’s view. Her form seemed petite at first glance, but as Bog had gotten closer he’d noticed how her arms packed a reasonable amount of muscles, her legs were strong and longer than he’d first anticipated, her eyes were hard in  
their golden light, her hair stood wild and untamed around her like a hedge of thorns, and overall the queen was a wonder to behold.

Actually, screw the first notion, she was definitely beautiful, even to goblin standards. She was hard where other fairies were soft, rough where they were round, calloused where they were newborn, and her voice held a strange sort of wisdom for her age.  
She was younger than Bog, that much he was sure of, but perhaps not by too much? She had seemed tired though, and getting less sleep than what your body needed could certainly add some years to you - he knew that by experience.

There was a small knock on the door. Bog froze. He was still standing at the edge of the now rumpled flower, his scales having done a number on its pristine petals, and he didn’t know if he should feel sorry for ruining it. He looked around the room for his scepter, and found it by the opening to the balcony.  
He hurried over and grabbed it from its resting place at the wall, and then he went back to the double doors that led to the hallway outside.

Bog placed one hand on the knob of the right door, sighed once, and then opened it with little effort. The heavy wooden door creaked open, and on the other side of it stood a small fairy with white wings tucked behind her.  
She wore what Bog believed to be servants attire, and her small form shuddered visibly the second she laid her eyes on him.

“Your majesty. The king has requested your presence in the throne room.” The words came out almost as a squeak, and Bog huffed in annoyed confirmation. Why, but his one was two seconds away from fainting! The fairy kingdom seemed less impressive by the minute if this was the reaction he’d have to expect from most of them. Was the queen really the only one with manners?

The small female fairy turned on her heels and gestured ahead of them, and Bog was now forced to follow her. Then again, he didn’t much fancy getting lost in this wretched place, so he figured he appreciated the escort.  
She guided him through well-lit tunnels, small corridors, rooms with ceilings that seemed to stretch on, and every last inch of the damn place was decorated.

Bog had a chance to glance into several rooms as they made their way through the castle, and the fairies really did know how to overdo things. Chandeliers made of gemstones lit up almost every single room, flowers and vines filled the corners as they’d crept through cracks in the walls, all major rooms had a set of gigantic double doors, and where a door didn’t create an entrance, giant archways with impressive patterns carved all around it opened like a mouth ready to swallow unsuspecting victims.  
There was spider silk hanging from the ceiling in most places, and the silk had been dyed several different colors. It glimmered in the morning light and cast a cacophony of hues in warm colors onto the floors.

Finally, they arrived at an archway on one of the upper floors of the castle that lead to what looked like a giant ballroom. This place was the most decorated and colorful of them all, with the biggest chandelier Bog had yet encountered.  
The spider silk in here had been dyed in an extensive marigold palette, and the yellow hues made the room almost seem like it was made of gold.  
_*Fools gold if ye ask me.*_

A natural mineral that looked like amethyst also snaked its way along the walls in rivers of both thick and thin, and Bog thought that the purple streaks suited the room better than gold ever would.

Along the walls and encasing the main area of the room, a shallow stream had been carved into the floor, and the blue water cast dancing light onto the walls. The room was round and had only one entrance, but Bog noticed that there was a triangular opening in the upper part of the wall and that the sky could be seen through it. Most likely the fairies entered and exited through that opening when it became necessary.  
The ground had been lifted at the far end of the room facing the entrance on the ground, and at the top of the elevated platform stood two thrones. Around ten steps of stairs encased the platform, but Bog figured once again that the fairies simply flew up there.

The maid that had escorted him gave a bow towards the figures currently positioned in each throne, then at Bog himself, and then she left quicker then what was probably deemed polite.

“Must be a real pain in the neck when it rains?” Bog gestured towards the ceiling with his scepter as he made his way towards the thrones, and then he bought it down with a clang against the floor with each step he took.

“We close it up when it rains.” The queen said, and did he detect some humor in her voice? Well, at least she was still in a good mood, even after last night.

“And how did you find your room? I hope it lived up to your expectations! I know it wasn’t musty and dark, and we didn’t quite have any moss or mud for you, but surely it was fine?” Right, the king. Bog had happily forgotten about the sound of the fairy king’s voice, and right now it was the most annoying thing Bog had ever heard.  
Bog also had to keep himself from grinding his teeth - _musty and dark, mud?!_ Did he think that was all the Dark Forest was?!  
The fairy king himself was smiling like a fool, undoubtedly trying to look as charming as possible, but Bog just wanted to vomit.

“The room was fine, thank ye.”  
* _Keep it together for just a little while longer.*_

The king rose from his throne, and Bog was delighted to find that of the two thrones, the king was seated in the smaller one. The queen occupied the bigger of the two, and it was clear as day now that she was the one of royal blood.  
This morning she was dressed in darker colors. An indigo blue dress with long sleeves and a high collar reaching just above the bottom of her chin donned her form. Sewn into the dress were streams of gold and small pearls, and her makeup was a smoky silver as well.  
How did a fool like her king even get close to someone like her?

“You must be hungry! As promised there will be a feast in your honor! To apologise for the misunderstanding - I hope you will take me up on our offer?” The king extended a hand towards Bog, palms upwards and fingers spread wide.  
The queen shifted in her seat, and then she rose to stand beside her husband. “It would be a great honor to have you dine with us, and a way for us to apologize - would you let us?”

There was sympathy in her eyes, and Bog felt like he couldn't say no. In fact, odd as he found it himself, he didn’t want to. Food wasn’t his biggest concern, as he could go for days without eating, but he wanted to spend some time with the queen.  
She was the only one so far that had reacted with any sort of decency, not shunning him, not looking at him like he was a monster, and she’d acted brave in every situation he’d seen her in. She hadn’t covered, hadn’t stuttered or tried to end their conversations quickly out of fear.  
She’d all in all treated him like a person, someone equal of her, and he found her fascinating. Then, of course, there were his more selfish reasons, but he’d dwell on those feelings later. Right now, she looked like someone who could use some company other than her husband’s, and Bog all but returned that notion. He supposed he could stay for a few hours.

  
“Ah would be glad to. Thank ye.” Bog bowed towards them both, but he made an effort to only catch the eyes of the queen. She smiled back at him in return.


	7. Chapter 5 - Come Meet the Family

The throne room had been huge, but the dining hall felt gigantic, and Bog stopped in the entranceway to take it all in.  
Located on the first floor of the castle, and directly below the throne room, the dining hall was elongated, lit with warm colors of red and orange, filled to the brim with rows of tables and benches on each side, and reminded Bog of his home.  
It was rustic, and where the other rooms he’d walked by today were decorated with stone and flowers, the dining hall had carvings made in wood filling every inch.

A giant fireplace filled the middle of the back wall, and the royal crest hung upon its mantle. The fire was unlit, seeing as it was only eight in the morning, but it still emitted a sort of warm feeling throughout the room just by being visible.  
Swords, spears, shields and many other types of weapons adorned the walls, and though they were polished and cleaned, Bog could tell they were ancient - probably hadn’t been used for centuries, and perhaps they were the previous weapons of warlords and kings and queens?

The biggest table of all was located in the middle of the room, with the fireplace at the back, and it reached all the way down towards the entrance of the room. It was the only table with chairs instead of benches, and it had a chair at the end of it where the ruling monarch undoubtedly sat.  
Roland took the seat at the end, and something inside Bog itched and clawed at his insides. He looked at the queen, but while annoyance flashed over her features, she did nothing to correct her husband.

Bog was actually quite surprised to see the queen walk towards _him_ instead of the table, and to his further surprise his legs started to move on their own in her direction. When they both got within earshot she spoke;  
“The bodies of my fallen soldiers were recovered last night, but from the hands of several of your people. My guard’s explained that your goblin’s had been on their way to deliver them here… was that your doing?”  
She’d stopped to stand beside him, but hadn’t turned to speak to him. She seemed content to simply stand by his side to look over the room with him, and Bog didn’t know whether he should turn to speak to her.

He cleared his throat and spoke as calmly as possible; “Ah figured ye’d want them back, so yes. Ah told mah people, to make sure they got here.” He looked at her as he raised a brow.  
“Was that wrong of me?”  
His lips thinned and he did his best to portray cold indifference. No use in playing friendly if she was accusing him of something, even after last night.

“No, of course not. I am grateful.” She answered calmly as she turned her head slightly to catch his eyes with her gentle gaze.  
“Thank you.”

He swallowed and nodded before returning his attention to the hall, and as he pretended to study it once more, the queen made her way down the left side of the table to undoubtedly sit at the king’s right hand.  
After some time, Bog himself started to walk down the right side of the table, seeing as he’d be expected to be seated to the king’s left. He wished he didn’t have to be seated anywhere at all though, and that he could return home to forget about this whole ordeal.  
Why in the world did he agree to this?

Four figures were already present and seated on each side of the head chair, and they’d made sure to leave a spot open on each side of it, and as Bog got closer he had a chance to study them. Two of them were rather old and were seated to the left of the head chair.  
Both were male and both had white hair and brown wings with black-rimmed, white patterns on them. They looked as if they should be dead by now, but they both quickly straightened themselves up as they saw him.  
_*Still got some life in those old bones eh?*_

On the other side sat a blonde fairy with pink and orange wings, and she looked like she was about to explode with excitement. In fact; it looked almost as if she was bouncing slightly in her seat, and the second she laid eyes on Bog her mouth shut open and her pupils dilated.  
Bog felt immensely uncomfortable in her presence, and he didn’t know if it was out of fear for her or worry for her well being. Surely she had to breathe at some point?

Then his eyes fell on a fairy by her side that he _did_ know, and a thought crept into his mind from earlier;  
“My mother says hello.” He regarded the old fairy as he steeled his voice. He could let his accent slip with the current king out of disdain, and with the queen out of some sort of comfort, but when it came to the old king,  _Dagda_ , he wanted to show control.

Dadga all but shot out of his seat to stand as Bog neared them. His posture was tense but his face was calm, and Bog wondered if that was a facade he’d had to practice over the years. After all, one thing was _being_ a king, another was being _born_ _and_ _raised_ to be a king.  
Bog vaguely remembered how the previous ruling couple had acted when they’d came to his home all those years ago, but even when he’d only met Helena once or twice, he knew there was no mistaking that she was the one of royal descent. She had an air around her, something like proper grace and sophistication, all bred and  
knocked into her head from childhood. It didn’t matter how long you ruled - if you weren’t born into it, everyone would be able to tell.

“Thank you, how very thoughtful of her.” The old man started, and he uncomfortable drummed his hands on the table as he scanned his eyes over Bog.  
“You look well! And you’ve _grown._ Why, the last time I saw you, you were no taller than a sprite! I can’t believe it’s been so long already.” Bog nodded and tried with a friendly smile, but he knew that the gesture didn’t look as genuine as it could.  
“Aye, it has been a long time.”

Out of the corner of his eyes, Bog spotted the fairy queen looking rather awed at her father, but as soon as she noticed he was looking at her, she steeled her expression and kept walking. She came to stand behind the blonde fairy on Dagda’s right and placed her hands on the back of the fairy’s chair.

“Well, now that we’re all here, I’d like to introduce everyone.” She gestured to everyone at the table and the female fairy in the chair’s grin grew impossibly wider. Before anyone could manage to say anything to introduce themselves though, the blonde girl stood from her chair and addressed Bog directly;  
“Hi! I’m Dawn! I’m Marianne’s younger sister!” She waved at him, and while Bog felt compelled to wave back, he simply nodded.

“I’ve been looking forward to meeting you Bog! I’ve never seen a goblin this close before!” She continued, and Bog didn’t exactly know how to react to that. Fairies avoided goblins most of the time, so to hear this one say she’d been exciting to meet him felt strange.

“Well, thank ye, Ah-” Bog started, but was cut short as the fairy king abruptly made himself noticed again; “And _these_ fine gentlemen, are Hector and Conrad. _They_ are two of the head councilors of the fairy council, and they’ve taken a _personal_ interest in this tragic ordeal, so they simply had to have a chance to discuss it with you,  _Bog._ ”  
He drawled on every other word, and Bog had to keep himself from grinding his teeth together.

The two councilmen stood and turned to face Bog, but they wavered immediately when he shot them a dangerous glare and a hint of teeth.  
“As Ah’ve already _explained_ ; th’ tragic death o’ our respective people ‘ave nothin’ t’ do with any decision _Ah_ took.” He looked at the queen with a nod of his head and continued; “And Ah’ll make sure it won’t happen again as soon as Ah return home.”  
She smiled appreciatively at him and turned to address her husband. All the while the two council members sat back down without uttering a word - and while also looking terrified.

“I think that settles things, don’t you Roland?”

 _Roland,_ simply looked at his queen with a charming smile and countered; “Oh sure, _Marianne_ , my darling! I just thought that Hector and Conrad deserved a chance to hear it from Bog himself! No harm in getting a first-hand confirmation that it was all a big misunderstanding? - Be it a rather _embarrassing_ misunderstanding if you ask me! After all; if _my_ people had blatantly attacked someone, _I_ wouldn’t be this calm.”

“ROLAND!” Marianne started, but Roland simply looked at Bog, and as the fool kept on smiling in challenge, Bog could do little to keep his claws from flexing and his wings from twitching in agitation.  
“Now ye LISTEN’T YE-”

“YOUR MAJESTIES! URGENT NEWS FROM THE BORDERS!”

They all froze to look at the guard that had appeared at the entrance of the dining hall, and Roland rose out of his seat suddenly and with an extremely serious look on his face.  
“What news do you bring?!” He said, and Bog thought his tone sounded awkward and forced, even for him. He noticed that even Marianne shot Roland a confused look at the way he’d spoken - an expression she bore a lot today, and Bog couldn’t blame her.

“ANOTHER SLAUGHTER YOUR ROYAL HIGHNESS! SEVERAL ELVES WERE FOUND DEAD!”

Well… _Jobby_.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Bog landed with a heavy thud beside the fairy guard that had alerted them to the scene now before them, and dust swirled up around him as the rest of the group caught up. Ten additional guards landed behind him, queen Marianne touched down just a second later, and then king Roland a few seconds after that.  
“Marianne! Darling! I really… think you should… t-take Dawn… back with you… to the c-castle! It’s way… way too dangerous...out here!” The king seemed out of breath and hunched over as his wings folded awkwardly behind him.

Bog would’ve laughed at how badly in shape the king apparently was, but he didn’t get a chance as the younger princess, Dawn, shrieked in horror as she landed beside her sister.

“Oh..oh gods! What happened here?!” The young fairy princess all but screamed, and Bog flinched at her high vocals. He pitied her though; the wee thing was obviously not accustomed to the sight before them. Truth be told he’d be surprised if she was.

The guard who’d arrived with him turned and gestured to the first corpse on the ground - a young girl, no more than ten, laid lacerated in a pool of her own blood. Her mouth was wide open in a silent scream and her eyes were bloodshot with blown pupils. Her blonde hair was dirty and muddied, and her dress made of mouse fur was dusty and torn.  
A single puncture wound in the middle of her chest had ended her, and Bog took notice of how clean and even the wound was. This had not been done by a beast. Bog walked over to kneel down beside her with the help of his scepter, and as he got close enough he sniffed at her tiny form.  
_*The blood is fresh, couldn’a have happened more than a few hours ago*_

Dagda had decided to stay back at the castle with the two councilmen, and so the three elderly men did not accompany them - Bog thought that was for the best anyway. Marianne turned to her sister and put her hands on the younger fairy’s shoulder, easily calming her down as she told her to breathe.  
She whispered something to her, and Dawn nodded at her sister before she took a few steps back and held herself tight. Marianne then turned to look at her heaving king with a neutral expression and monotonically said; “We’ll be fine, don’t worry so much.” It was obvious she wasn’t moved by her husband’s concerns for her and her  
sister’s well being, and had Bog not heard her singing last night, he would’ve wondered why. Roland started to say something else, but Marianne turned to address the guard who’d let them here next; “What happened here?”

She’d convinced the two councilmen that her presence at this particular scene was necessary due to it being the second attack, and had pressed the fact with vigor till they’d caved and let her go. She’d had to bring the ten guards now surrounding them all before they’d agreed though, and Bog had gotten the impression that they did not much like their queen leaving the castle.  
_*Like wasps, hmph, no wonder she seems so tense all the time.*_

“Are you… _sniffing her?”_

The words broke him out of his musings, and Bog rolled his eyes before straightening back up and turning towards the fairy king.  
“Mah’ sense o’ smell is pretty strong, an’ so Ah can inform ye that she died about two hours ago.” Roland made a face of disdain, but the rest of the group looked quite impressed, and Bog turned to survey the surrounding area with a smug expression on his face.  
Three other corpses were strewn about, all elves, all cut up and some with severed limbs. There were another child and two adults, and they all looked disturbingly alike.

“Ah’m afraid it’s a family.” He concluded in a stern tone.

“Woah, talk about a family outing going wrong, huh? I don’t think _this_ was the picnic they had in mind!” Roland spouted from the back of the group, but Bog ignored him as he went over to inspect the second child.  
This one was a girl too, a few years younger than the first one, and in the same state of horror as her sister - except this one was missing an arm.

“This is just… horrible.” Bog heard the queen say behind him, and he had to keep himself from jumping as she’d gotten awfully close to where he was now hunched over. In fact; she stood directly behind him as she looked over his shoulder.  
_*Keep calm ye right git, she’s just concerned for her subjects*_

After doing just that, and acknowledging the queens previous words with a nod in her direction, he turned his attention back to the girl and her severed arm.  
Bog wrinkled his nose and furrowed his brow as he inspected the cut. The smell of blood was overwhelming, but that was about it. Except for the dirt that had been mixed in, this one didn’t seem to have been anywhere near the forest, even if she _was_ lying just outside of its borders. No wet mud, no dead leaves, no moss - no nothing.

He rose and looked a Marianne with a concerned look in his eyes, and she all but returned the notion as she thinned her lips and looked around them. She then kneeled down to look at the girl herself. Bog himself continued over to the supposed parent’s of the two elf girls, and after deducting the same thing about them as he’d done with the children, he turned around to regard the rest of the party.

“They dinnae die in the forest, they died _here_ in the fields.” He looked around the area again and took notice of how the sand and grass was stumped, ruffled and in total disarray. “Ah’d even bet it happened _right_ here in this area.” He nodded in conclusion.

Marianne rose with widened eyes, and Bog could tell she believed him. His heart made a faint jump at that.

“Quite the deductive skills, but what makes you think they didn’t die on _your_ land?” Roland crossed his arms and looked from person to person, obviously trying to make them doubt Bog, but everyone present simply waited for him to go on.  
The notion humored him, and so he continued; “Lookit’ the ground around ye; this place saw a fight not long ago.” He gestured with his arms spread out, scepter pointing at the ground while he himself turned in a circle. Everyone looked around in astonishment and nodded in agreement - all except for Roland.

“Alright, so the fight _might_ have happened here. But who killed them?!” Roland spread out _his_ arms in an over-exaggerated manner, his eyebrows almost flying off his face with how high he raised them. Then the bastard walked towards Bog as he spoke aloud;

“I say we search the area to look for clues. Someone must’ve left something that could point us in the right direction! I’m thinking our culprits could be a bit, _dim-witted_ , and forget something - after all, you’d have to be pretty stupid to attack _my_ citizens.”  
Roland said this as he reached Bog, and the smug look currently plastered on his face was enough to get Bog to flare out his wings in a snap. The fairy king took a step back at that.

“Ye best hold yer tongue if yer suggestin’ wha’ I think yer suggestin’!” Bog _snarled._

Roland recovered the step he’d taken and leaned in against Bog, flaring his own wings in challenge as he sneered. “Well, prove me wrong then! Who do you think did it _your majesty_ ?” His sneer turned to a mocking smile then, and Bog rattled his shoulder plates in retaliation. He gripped his scepter tightly and was about to raise it above his head when the queen erupted in a shout;

“STOP! This is NOT the time to fight like this! I will NOT tolerate this level of immaturity in a situation of this caliber!”

She’d braved the distance to them in a few long strides, and now they all stood in a circle of monarchs. Bog almost wanted to laugh at the whole situation.  
The fairy king was once again trying to pin this on him, with as little evidence as before, and simply because he didn’t have a better explanation it seemed. Bog was certain none of his subjects were the culprits, but if the killer really did come from the Dark Forest, he had a serious breach in his defenses.

“Please, Marianne, darling, the men are ta-” Roland said in a belittling voice, but before he got any further the queen flared her wings open in a violent snap, and to Bog’s surprise they actually made a cracking sound as they did so.  
Roland shut his mouth abruptly, all the guards straightened suddenly and Marianne’s sister, Dawn wasn’t it?, stiffened and looked between them all with a worried glance that in the end wound up resting on her sister alone.

“Our subjects have _died_ . That blood is on _our_ hands until we find the perpetrators, and _stop them._ ” Marianne said this as she pointed a finger dangerously close to Roland’s face. Roland himself held up his hands in defeat, his eyes comically wide as they focused on the intruding digit right between them.  
“ _I_ will send some brownies to search the area with some of the guards, but first we need to get the victims back to the Elven village.”

The queen then turned to Bog, and he felt himself straighten his back and grip his scepter out of… fear? Oh, but that was new. He hadn’t had this sort of respect for a fairy ever, and Bog didn’t know what to do with the feeling.

“I’m so sorry about all this. This wasn’t how I wanted the first contact between our kingdom’s to go after years of not speaking. I hope you won’t take this the wrong way; but I need you to return to your kingdom. Ask around; maybe someone saw something?” Her eyes were stern but the rest of her features seemed relaxed - she was a natural at this.  
Bog felt compelled to comply and so he gave her a swift nod and a small bow. “Ah shall send word to ye when Ah find out more.” She smiled and her eyes gleamed before darkening as she turned towards her husband.  
“Go back to the castle, tell the council and my father that I will be leaving for the Elven Village after we’re done here. You can take five guards with you, but the rest stays with me.”

Roland shot her a weird look, but before he could argue with her she walked over to her sister without sparing him a second glance. Roland then opted to sulking, looked Bog over one more time, and then he went to join his squad of guards that were still standing perfectly alert and somewhat baffled at their queen’s earlier display.  
Bog watched them exchange a few words, catching how Roland sneered at Marianne while the guards turned, and then they all took off towards the castle.

Marianne went from guard to guard with instructions and Bog was glad to see that they all treated her with respect, nodding and bowing before flying off in different directions. Two went towards the elf village, which Bog knew was located close to the south-west border of his forest, and three started to scour the area for body parts - probably to make sure that the elf family was _whole_ for when they needed to be moved back to the village.  
The queen and her sister stood talking by the path back to the castle, and Bog thought the younger one looked distressed.

The queen threw up her hands in frustration as the princess stomped her left foot down, and Bog figured that the two were a perfect combination of a coin; one side childish, and the other one mature. Perhaps the queen herself had been like that once, but was forced to grow up with her responsibilities? Bog frowned as he remembered his own ascension and how he’d had to create a whole new persona for himself.  
_*Ye’ll get eaten alive if ye don’t*_

He steadied himself as he shook away the memories, and then he noticed that the queen had seen him looking  
at them. Instead of sending him a scolding stare for technically eavesdropping, she motioned for him to join them,  
and Bog hesitantly went over there.

“Sunny is _my_ best friend! I want to be there when you tell his dad about this! I have the right to be there!” The younger one was puffing up her cheeks and tears were due to spring from her eyes any minute.  
Bog found it uncomfortable to look at, and it seemed the queen wasn’t that immune to the display either.

“Fine! But you will stay by my side! No running off, and no getting distracted! I won’t have the time to keep an eye on you, so promise me you’ll do as I say?” The queen ended up conceding in an exhausted tone as she returned her attention to her sister, and the younger fairy nodded with a determined look on her face.  
Dawn perked up when she noticed him getting closer, and Bog had to keep himself from making a nervous face as she practically beamed at him.  
“Are you off now Boggy?” She said dramatically, her eyebrows drawing together as she flashed him some of the biggest puppy eyes he’d ever seen, and Bog grabbed his scepter tighter to steady himself as he stood beside them.

“Eh, _Bog_ , if ye dorn’t mind. But, yes, Ah’m - Ah just needed t’ talk to the queen one last time before Ah did so.” Bog was almost knocked over by the wide smile and small wink the girl gave him all of a sudden, and if she was really sad about him leaving she wasn’t showing it right at this moment.  
“Oh sure! I’ll get out of your way~" She said in an almost sing-song voice. She sauntered off to talk to the closest guard and Bog was left alone with Marianne who was looking all sorts of distressed.

“I, eh… I’m so sorry. I don’t know what that was all about.” She tried with a nervous smile, and Bog decided to show her mercy by chuckling in response.  
“Tha’s alright, she’s jus’ young an’… well, she’s just young.”

She relaxed at that and turned to face him fully before speaking; “I wanted to talk about what you said before, about sending word to me? I have a slight suspicion Roland won’t let the messages reach me. What with how he’s obsessed with this whole thing being done by goblins, I doubt he’d let any sort of correspondence happen between our two kingdom’s, and I doubt our council would disagree with him, meaning I wouldn’t have much of a say in the matter.”

Her shoulders sagged as she huffed out an annoyed breath, but then she continued down a road Bog had not been expecting;  
“Perhaps, if you don’t mind? We could… meet? Face to face I mean, just, um, just the two of us?” She tried a glance at him, and as Bog’s eyes widened and his mouth undoubtedly opened she added; “I will be spending time in the elf Village to help prepare for the funeral, and Roland wouldn’t suspect me sneaking off, and he’d hardly expect it to be to swap intel with you.”

He also didn’t know how to respond to that, and he didn’t get a chance to either before she spoke again; “I will also be handling the burial and burning of our own - the soldiers from yesterday morning? That ceremony will take a few days at least to arrange, which will keep Roland from bothering me. Hopefully that’ll leave me a few openings to come by. And _both_ events will call for a social gathering of my people, which means Roland would be distracted in both instances.”

He blinked once, then he blinked twice, and then he forgot how to blink all together and just stared at her. She was willing to go through all that, to come and see him?  
_*Dorn’t be ridiculous, she’s coming to discuss the killings, not tha’ spend time with ye!*_ _  
_ No matter her reason, it was rare that people sought out his company, even for strategizing, and Bog could feel his heart jumping in his throat.

When he did find his voice again the queen’s expression had started to grow worried, and so he quickly added;  
“Aye, tha’s a good plan - fer now anyway.”

She lit up, not comically so like her sister, but in a relaxing and grateful way.  
“Okay, good. We’ll need a rendezvous point, and since I’ll be in the elf village often the next few days, I think it’d be a safe place to meet up for a start? Isn’t there a large willow tree close to it? How about there?”

Bog nodded, a little dazed and somewhat unsure of his situation, but he still nodded. “Aye, sounds like a plan. Meet up in three days? Tha’ should be enough time for me to talk to some of me’ tribes.”  
He could talk to about three tribes in that time, and he knew just the tribes to seek out. If anyone was causing trouble, those tribes were the most likely.

Marianne looked around them before stretching out her hand - “Deal?”  
Bog chuckled as he took it and shook it.  
“Deal.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“You _like_ him~"  
Marianne was broken out of her musings by her sister’s words, and as she tried to feign ignorance, Dawn simply rolled her eyes and flew ahead of her. She turned around mid-air and flew backward for a few paces.  
“Oh c’mon, you can’t fool me! You have that look in your eyes when you talk to him!”

  
Marianne looked around them to make sure that none of the guards, and the elves on the dragonflies above them, had heard her.  
The two guards that had gone to Elven village returned half and hour later with a team of brownies, two large gurneys strapped to dragonfly carries and two elves riding the dragonflies.  
Four guards stayed behind with the brownies who, due to their ability to turn themselves invisible, had been appointed the fields best scavengers. They are also small and light on their feet, and therefore they can get in and out of any place or area without much difficulty.  
If anything was to be found at the crime scene like Roland had suggested, the brownies would undoubtedly find it.

Marianne turned to look at her sister again with an angry expression, but Dawn was simply giggling and kicking her feet with glee as she turned back around to fly straight again. She then aligned herself to fly by Marianne’s side, getting herself as close as possible before she went on;

“Well, I suppose he is a ragged kind of handsome, _and_ a goblin. But I must say, those _eyes_ are to die for - don’t you agree, dear sister?”  
Marianne flung out an arm to hit Dawn at that moment, but Dawn simply flew out of her aim and Marianne ended up staggering in the air, and she almost sputtered as she tried to regain her balance.

“ _Dawn!_ That’s none of your business! Stop talking about it!” She spat in a desperate voice, but Dawn just rolled her eyes again and proceeded to then waggle her eyebrows at Marianne.  
“He’s also _tall_ , and I know you like tall guys!~ I bet he’d have _no_ trouble lifting you up and-”  
“DAWN! THAT’S INDECENT!” Marianne growled as she tried to keep her voice down. Dawn had said it all in a singsong voice, but for all her teasing she at least kept it quiet enough for only Marianne to hear, and so the two sisters remained unheard by the others.

“Oh C’mon! If Roland can get away with it, I don’t see why you can’t? At this point your marriage is just political anyway Mari! You need some fun too!” The words sounded silly to Marianne, but the tone was serious.

Dawn was the only one who knew of Roland’s ventures, and Marianne had to physically restrain her sister from going to Roland’s chambers to beat him up when she’d told her.  
Marianne had waited a year before telling her, but she’d gone to her room every time she suspected Roland was with someone from then on.  
Bunking with her sister wasn’t questioned by anyone, as the sister’s had always been close, but Marianne eventually needed her own space to think, and that was when her personal chambers had been built.

Dawn was looking at her with a frown and a scolding expression now, but it didn’t take long for it to turn playful again.  
“Besides, _I_ for one noticed how Bog couldn’t keep his eyes off of you! You may have changed, but I say it’s for the better - and I think Bog likes the new you~"

Marianne felt her face heat up and then her wings missed a beat. She quickly recovered though and tried to look anywhere but at her sister.  
Roland always commented on how she’d put on weight. What he truly meant was muscle weight, but she was sure he was too proud to say so. Her hair was shorter than it had ever been, wilder too, and her body was littered with scars and imperfections at this point.  
She’d gone from a quaint princess to a marred queen in just five years, and Marianne hadn’t much cared for how she looked till this moment.

“Of course, he never met the old you, but I think he’d have liked you then too!” Dawn continued, and Marianne tried not to smile as she turned towards her sister once more.  
“Dawn, please. I know you’re just trying to help, but it really is indecent. The Bog king and I are only looking to form political ties. Besides; I’d never stoop to Roland’s level, and you know that I wouldn’t.”

Dawn’s expression saddened, but she also looked like she understood, and the two sisters proceeded to fly in silence for a little while before Dawn spoke up again;  
“Wait, what do you mean; _the Bog king and I?_ What do you mean, are you planning to see him again?” Dawn said as she shot her sister a perplexed look, and Marianne knew that Dawn had heard Bog’s promise of sending her letters of his findings.  
_*Well, at least she didn’t eavesdrop afterward.*_

  
“Can I trust you to do something for me? Something dangerous?” She looked at Dawn and the younger princess flew closer with a nervous look on her face.  
“I will have to go to the border’s of the Dark Forest in the next few weeks. I don’t know how many times I will have to go, but I will not let this whole thing end in more bad air between the kingdoms. Bog and I have agreed to swap intel, and it’s him I’ll be meeting. For now we’re meeting close to the elf village, and I’ll need someone to distract everyone as I disappear for half an hour or so.”

Dawn nodded and spoke up before Marianne could continue; “I’ll cover for you when you need it. Besides, it’ll give me an excuse to visit Sunny more!” The smile she wore then was untroubled and goofy, and Marianne felt a  
burden leave her shoulders. She knew she could count on Dawn - this would make things go more smoothly in the coming weeks.

  
“Try not to get too attached to Boggy though, that would be _indecent._ ” Dawn teased, and Marianne could do little but sigh in exasperation as they spotted the roof’s of the first few houses of Elven village in the distance.


	8. Chapter 6 - Mistakes of the Past

  * _Five years ago_



“Now presenting the royal couple; Queen Marianne, and King Roland!”

The fanfares blared loudly, the crowds in the royal ballroom erupted in cheers as they heaved their glasses of elderflower liqueur, and the music from the band erupted in festive tunes, and it all happened simultaneously the very second Marianne sat foot in the room as the newly crowned Queen of the Fair fields.  
She was on Roland’s arm, and her husband waved excitedly at the gathered people with a smile as glimmering white as the night stars above the castle.

Her coronation day had been nothing but a great success! No interruptions, no delayed schedules, Dawn had been with her to keep her calm all day, and when the time came for the crown to finally be presented to her as her own, Marianne felt like her entire life had lead to that very moment.

The ceremony had been beautiful. Her father had stepped down with grace, his long rule had been celebrated and cherished by those who attended, and Marianne felt so very proud of him.  
Dawn had shed a tear or two for their now retired parent, and Marianne thought she’d seen her father breathe out a sigh of relief when it was all over.  
Then came the time for Marianne to take her place on the throne. The highest members of the council had stepped up to recite the ancient words of Rite and then Marianne herself had recited the Oath of Passage. She’d been anointed with blessed oils and dressed in the royal robe that all her descendants had donned before her, and then the crown had finally been placed on her head.

Cheers erupted along with lines of “Long live the Queen”, and then it had been Roland’s turn to take his oath. His ceremony hadn’t been as grand, no royal clothing and his oath were simply to ensure that he’d swear to guard the kingdom and help Marianne rule with wisdom and care.  
Marianne had tried to calm him down all week when he found out this his crowning wasn’t as grandeur, and it had taken her father’s words of encouragement to finally have him settle down.

She knew Roland loved the attention, and Marianne had found that she in return actually rather disliked attention - it made her feel a little anxious about doing things wrong when people were looking.  
But tradition was to be upheld, and only the one of royal blood would be “properly” crowned. It didn’t mean that Roland was less king than she was queen though, not to her, and she’d told him so before they entered the throne room earlier.  
And so he’d given her the biggest smile that day, and Marianne felt like she could fly a thousand miles without tiring from the love she held in her heart for him at that moment. She knew he would be a good king, and that he’d protect the kingdom - he was so good at fighting with a sword after all!

  
Marianne had thought about learning how to wield a sword too, and she’d talked to one of her longtime friends and personal bodyguard, Marcus, about teaching her. He’d been ecstatic and very enthusiastic at the prospect of being the one to teach her, and the rest of her friends, also coming from the same group as Marcus, had insisted they helped with her training.

She was so excited! She couldn’t wait to tell Roland all about it! Then maybe the council and Roland would allow her to go scout at the borders sometimes with the rest of the guards? As queen surely she was needed to help survey the borders and keep peace physically instead of _just_ on paper.  
Not that, that wasn’t important either, and she knew she had a lot to learn as queen about ruling a kingdom! But she also wanted to be out there.  
She just hoped she wouldn’t be confined to the castle for the rest of her days going over royal documents and discussing politics with her council alone. She wanted to travel and meet other kingdoms, to visit tribes of the north and druids of the west! They all had so much to learn from one another, and Marianne felt like she could be the queen her mother had envisioned herself as when she ruled - a queen Marianne knew it was her destiny to become as well.

Marianne waved her hand at the crowd as she and Roland made their way down the first set of stairs to the dip in the floor where people danced. The ballroom was much like the throne room, with a stream encasing the main flooring, but there were more

flowers protruding from the walls here. Crystals also sprouted from the walls, and far more rivers of purple and pink amethyst ran across the walls and ceiling.  
It dipped in the center by several steps, and a large fountain had been erected in the middle with water flowing up from beneath the floor.  
The ballroom was situated one floor below the throne room, but was much bigger to accommodate for the many people that would visit here to celebrate various occasions - it was also built directly across from the dining hall, to be able to both entertain and feed people on the same floor.

In Marianne’s honor, purple tulips had been imported from elsewhere in the land, and the room was decorated in with their petals, buds, full heads, and powders. Spider silk had been dyed a deep gold to accompany the dark symphony of the flowers, and the room had a tremendously royal feeling to it.  
Marianne’s heart skipped a beat at the sight, as she hadn’t been allowed to go over any of the decorations, or to even see the ballroom before she entered just now - but it had just the right effect, and she was happy to see it at this moment and not earlier.

“It’s so beautiful.” She breathed as they reached their designated spot for the evening by the fountain, and then she turned to look at Roland with a big smile.  
He leaned in and kissed her forehead, and she sighed dreamily as he responded; “Only the best for you, _my_ _queen._ ”  
She giggled and scrunched up her nose playfully. “ _My King._ ” She kissed him tenderly on the lips, and he reacted with earnest passion as he dipped her slightly backwards.  
He was such a romantic - how did you she get so lucky?

Their moment was interrupted as a stout old man made his way over and greeted them.  
“Your royal highnesses! It is an honor to be here, thank you so very much!”

The smaller man was an elf and Marianne scolded herself for not recognizing him sooner.  
“Alfred! How nice to see you! I take it you’re getting yourself well-known in the royal circle of the kingdoms from afar?” Marianne grinned at the small elf, and he beamed back at her.

“Oh certainly! Did you know that queen Novalai recently had twins? She sends her husband with regards, though I think that’s more for your own ears to hear - I just congratulated him myself, and he seemed really nice!”  
The elf waved his arms in the general direction of the crowd, and Marianne did think she spotted king Augustus among the many people out there.

“I’ll have to send them my love, thank you, Alfred. How is Samuel doing? I never did get confirmation that he was coming tonight?” She felt Roland tap her shoulder, and as she looked towards him he gave a humored roll of his eyes and then he motioned towards the crowd.  
“I’ll go mingle my love, catch you later?”

Marianne was a bit confused. She was instructed to stand at the fountain most of the evening to allow the quests to approach her with some privacy. Perhaps it wasn’t the same for Roland?  
“Oh, okay. Have fun darling, I’ll see you later.” She smiled warmly at him, and then he was gone like a blur into the crowd who welcomed him with pats on the back and smiling faces.  
Alfred’s gaze followed Roland till he was out of sight, and then he turned his eyes back to Marianne. His expression was somewhat sympathetic, and Marianne was pretty sure she knew what he was thinking.  
“Want me to keep you company?”

She smiled gently and shook her head.  
“No thank you, I wouldn’t want to trap you all night down here with me. This is a celebration after all! There’s lots of food and drink, and plenty of opportunitiesto make friends with the far-off kingdoms - go out there Alfred, have some fun. No doubt you’d need to get back to Samuel at some point tonight anyway.”

Alfred chuckled and looked towards the crowd with a somewhat somber look in his eyes.  
“It’s alright your highness, you can call him Sunny.”

She looked back at him with a more surprised expression then. Only Dawn and Marianne ever called him that, after Sunny’s own wishes, and she knew the chief of the Elven village had had quite the talking to with his son regarding the name - and the things that had spurred the change of it.  
Too cheerful for a future leader, not _serious_ enough.  
“I figured it was a silly thing to fight him over; ridding himself of his old self. If Sa-... ehm, _Sunny_ , wishes to change his identity, to _find_ himself, I shall not be the one to stop him.”

“And how does he feel about being the next leader of Elven now?” She tried, carefully, knowing that the subject was a sore one.  
The old man sighed and smiled at her.  
“The boy’s lucky he’s got so many cousins. The title will stay in the family, and he’s welcome to try for it if the desire ever comes over him.” He nodded, as if he’d come to terms with the situation a long time ago.  
“I’m just happy to have my boy back with me.”

Marianne was so very relieved to hear that. With her marriage, her birthday two weeks prior and coming of age, and now her coronation, she hadn’t spoken to Sunny for quite some time, and besides from what she’d heard from Dawn, she didn’t know how he fared these days.  
She was extremely happy to hear that he was doing this well.

“That’s good to hear Alfred, I’m happy for you _and_ for Sunny.” She turned back to scan over the crowd, and this time she managed to catch the eyes of Augustus, whom she waved over.

“Thank you, your majesty.” The old man said as he made his way towards a huddle of people.

“Please, _Marianne_ \- if you don’t mind Alfred.” She said gently as he turned around to look at her.  
He gave her one polite bow, and then he disappeared into the crowd.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

_* Present time_

“Marianne, welcome.”  
Age was never kind to anyone, and Marianne thought it had been cruel to her oldest friend.

Alfred looked pale, like a ghost of his former self, shrunken up like a prune out of harvest and very, very tired. Still, he regarded her with a smile and a hug, and Marianne sunk down to her knees to return his gesture with fervor.  
“Alfred. Good to see you.” She let the old man go and rose back to her feet as Dawn walked up beside her.

They all stood at the bank of the river and looked up towards the stone hills that held the Elven village. Dawn gave the chief a small wave before hugging him too, and Marianne was suddenly reminded that Dawn actually spent a great deal of time in the elf village.  
It was probably to visit Sunny, to begin with, but her sister actually came here a lot these past few years, and if Marianne didn’t know any better, she’d say that Dawn preferred the elf village over the castle. Marianne didn’t quite know what it was she did when she visited though, but then again Dawn rarely did talk about it.

The dragonfly carriers landed with their respective gurneys, and Marianne walked over to inspect the one that she knew held the mother and youngest of the two children.  
They had been wrapped up in seaweed from the river, both to help preserve them till the burial and to prevent anyone from seeing the state they were in.

“Casper tells me it was quite gruesome.” Alfred walked over as he looked at the masses of seaweed. They looked like they carried harvest, or maybe some sort of medicine, and that was what they’d be passed off as when they were to be taken to the infirmary for inspection - no one in the village needed to know just how they died.  
“Attacked by beasts.” Alfred said rather calmly, and Marianne looked at him.

The guard, Casper, who’d been one of the two to arrive back at the elf village to gather the dragonflies and gurneys, stood by one the elf knights and talked. The two seemed sad, but nonetheless talked like they were old friends, and while Casper was young, he didn’t seem to share the belief of elves being worth less than fairies - like some of the guards did.  
Roland was to blame for that as well, as he’d rallied quite a bunch with talks of glory and worth, so Marianne was happy to see that there was still fresh and clever blood among the ranks.

“He didn’t mention goblins, did he?” Marianne turned to look at the old elf, and he gave her a weird look.  
“Did they do it? That seems… odd.” He seemed to be very confused at her statement, and Marianne hurried to correct him from going down the wrong path; “There is no evidence, but Roland claims to have been attacked yesterday by a band of rogue goblins. He thinks they did _this_ too.”

Alfred simply appeared to take in the information, churn it over in his head a few times, and then he nodded.  
“And what do you think?” The question was honest enough, but Marianne couldn’t help but grimace. She hadn’t really thought about her opinion on who did what, but she knew that she believed the Bog king when he said that the goblins did not attack on his order.

After all that time of hearing of a fearsome king in his castle guarded by monsters, she couldn’t quite remember where the rumors started and the fairy tales ended. Her mother hadn’t told her tales or stories, but retellings of her own ventures into the forest, and while she’d made it sound magical, none of it seemed too good or bad to be true.  
The goblin people were like everyone else, and their current king was different to anyone she’d ever met. She shook herself free of her musings, remembering that the elf beside her had asked her a question, but this time she was certain of her answer;

“I think it’s convenient that everyone who survived the first attack is someone who’s excessively loyal to Roland.”

Alfred nodded and looked back at the bodies. They were all being placed on a transport as carefully as possible by the carriers, but they also had to move swiftly before people started to gather around to see what all the fuss was about, and so the whole process ended up looking rather stressed.  
“We elves are loyal to those of royal blood, always remember that.” He said without looking at her.

Marianne smiled to herself. She knew that Alfred didn’t much care for Roland, neither did most of Elven village actually and therefore she had great allies here for when the future became uncertain.   
And she was thinking that that future was very near now.

“Thank you, I will not take your friendship or the loyalty of your people for granted. I just hope you’re clear on what I will eventually need to do.” Marianne remarked with a grim expression. Thinking about removing Roland’s power was one thing, managing it was another.  
But as awful as these incidents had been, they were perhaps just what she’d needed to push the kingdom in the right direction.

Alfred went over and took her left hand in his own two. He looked her straight in the eyes and offered her a warm smile, his skin stretching with the effort. “We’ve been wanting to get rid of that brat ever since he first put on that crown.”  
And with that, he let go of her hand, straightened back up and went to follow the cart that held his fallen kin into the infirmary.

“I’m not stupid you know.”   
Marianne turned around to look straight into the face of Dawn. Her sister’s eyes were clouded with sadness and anger, and before Marianne could answer her, her sister began again; “I heard you and Alfred, and I want to know what’s happening. I’m not a kid!”  
Marianne knew it was the wrong reaction, but she smiled at her baby sister, and Dawn puffed up her cheeks as they grew red with anger. Marianne put her hands on her shoulders before she could explode.

“I’m not keeping you in the dark, I promise. Truth is; I don’t know exactly what’s going on yet, just that we might have a chance to get Roland to denounce his crown. Or better yet, have the council finally see him for who he really is, and then _they_ can denounce him.”

Dawn seemed to calm down at that but still looked at Marianne with skepticism.  
“I still don’t understand why you can’t just divorce him. He’s done nothing for the kingdom except expand the military! And we didn’t need a bigger army in the first place!” She huffed, and as Marianne removed her hands from her shoulders again her own sagged.

“Our marriage is too important. I can’t risk the Southern kingdom cutting ties with us because our marriage ended on a sour note. Chances are _they_ don’t know what Roland is really like either, so I would be painted as the bad guy.”

“What about the cheating? You say he’s been doing it for years! That should be reason enough?” Dawn tried, hope imminent in her tone.

“I didn’t stop him, Dawn. I _let_ him cheat for years. What kind of a person does that? I should’ve stopped him a long time ago before the kingdom doubted my abilities to give them an heir, before Roland could use that against me as an excuse. You know he will.” She’d gone over the notion for a long time. People cheat on each other all the time, the world isn’t perfect, and while she couldn’t use it to bring Roland to justice, she could use it to bolster her case later.  
It would be a fine cherry on top of a bigger scandal, that much was certain.

“You don’t know that Marianne, you don’t know that any of that will happen! What if the Southern kingdom takes your side in this? What if they find what Roland has done to be despicable, all of it! What if… what if we could end it right now. Send a letter to them Mari… just...” She noticed how her sister’s wings were quivering, how her shoulders were shaking and how her eyes glossed over.

“I don’t want to see you unhappy anymore Marianne. I… I want my sister back.” Her tears rolled then, and Marianne braced the few paces between them to hold Dawn in her arms. she cooed at her and stroked her hair, fighting an eternal battle to not start crying herself.

One of the guards made eye contact, and Marianne shook her head as he started to make his way over. He stopped abruptly. Although he did seem to care and wanted to know if the princess was all right, she didn’t need his prying ears close right now.  
This was for Dawn and herself only, and Marianne wished they were back at the castle in her old room, just gossiping the day away and dreaming of their respective prince charming’s.

“I can’t risk it. You know I can’t.”

Dawn didn’t respond, but simply let herself be held tight, and as Marianne stroked her sister's hair she was more determined than ever to carry out her plans. She needed all of this to end.  
  
  


\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Bog’s wings threw up a lot of water and grime from the surrounding area and scattered the fog that hung heavily in the air. His landing wasn’t exactly graceful, as mud spurted up and splashed all over his legs, but he ignored it and continued down the path he knew would take him to the Ceó swamps.

This was the first tribe he planned to visit over the next few days, and he was not at all happy. He’d decided to take this one first, as he didn’t want to seem worn out or tired from the excursions he’d undoubtedly had to except for the next coming days, and for this particular tribe, he needed to look about ready for anything.

It had only been around two days since he was last here, but he’d decided to go directly to the swamps before going home. The offending torches that lid up the floating platforms on the water’s surface made his face scrunch up and go sour.  
_*Damn contraptions. Who wants fire loose like that where it cannae be controlled?!*_

Indeed he knew exactly who to blame if a serious fire ever did make it into the rest of the forest, but unfortunately it would take no less than a forest fire to get the torches extinguished.  
Bog was their king, but each tribe had a chief who overlooked things from day to day. It had been agreed that major changes had to go through Bog, like if the tribe wanted to wage war or change their trading partners, or if they wanted to relocate, but running the villages were the responsibilities of the chief.

“ROARK!” Bog bellowed, and the few slug and frog goblins gathered at the platforms all turned to look at their king in fright.  
Some jumped in the water, others simply parted so Bog could get through to the first platform’s bridge, but he didn’t care for them right now. Right now there was only one person he _did_ care for, and that same person stepped out of the largest building, floating on the largest platform in the middle of the swamp

Roark was the same species of goblin as Stuff, but he was huge and had more fins adorning his back and arms. He snorted at Bog in greeting, but his eyes were hard and cold as he walked up to meet his king.  
_*Damn bullfrogs, always so stoic.*_

“What brings you here my king? The fire is under control, you saw so yourse-”

“Have any of your goblins disappeared lately?” Bog cut him off as he placed the bud of his scepter a few paces from Roark’s feet with a loud thud.  
Roark regarded him with a strange look, and then he slowly shook his head.  
“No. No one is missing. What is this about?”

Bog hissed in both disappointment and relief. He didn’t like Roark all that much, but he knew he was loyal. In fact, it wasn’t any sort of political matter or even personal matter that made him dislike the other goblin, it was -

“Roark, what is it? wha-” She stopped dead in her tracks as she stepped out of the building Roark had just exited from. Bog had hoped she wouldn’t be in today as she hadn’t been two days ago, but it seemed the ancient spirits wanted to keep torturing him.

“Mina.” He simply said with a bow of his head in her direction, and she nodded back at him without hesitation.  
“My king. It’s an honor.” Mina said before looking at her mate with a confused look in her eyes.

She was as beautiful as ever Bog noted, and his heart skipped a beat in both panic and adoration. He didn’t want to see her again, and she undoubtedly felt uneasy in his company, but they had to be professionals in this.  
She knew he’d never meant her any harm, but who could blame her for being cautious after what had happened between them all those years ago.

“Goblins are missing, his majesty came to -”

“No, not missing. Not exactly.” They both looked at him now, and Bog cursed the fact that he’d have to come here again so soon.  
“Somethin’ has come up, a dispute of sorts, and Ah needed to make sure that no goblin’s are deviating from tha’ laws.” He simply said, and just as he’d expected Mina tensed up and fixed him with a stern look.  
“Are you saying _my_ goblins are suspects of treason? What _exactly_ gave you that idea.” Her eyes were like fire, and Bog was reminded once again why he’d loved her so much once.

“You kno’ Ah would never.” He shot back, his wings rattling and his teeth baring, and he could tell that Mina fought to calm herself. Roark cleared his throat from the side and shifted from one leg to the other in a display of unease.  
“Then, if you don’t mind, what are you saying?”

Bog looked at the bigger male and studied him. He was about the same height as Bog, but very round and covered in mucus. It wasn’t just fat that protected him either, as Bog had seen him fight before and knew he packed quite some muscle beneath that thick hide of his.  
“The fairy king claim to have been attacked by goblins, an’ this mornin’ they found elves by the border close to yer home.”

Mina straightened herself up and leaned in again to retaliate, but Bog cut her off; “Ah will handle tha’ fairies. I dinnae believe the king was entirely truthful about his encounter, and neither does his queen.” He smirked at her through the last part of the sentence, and she seemed to ease up a bit.  
“Okay so, wait, there’s a new queen?” She added.

“Aye, and a new king. Both still young and foolish, but Ah think the queen can be reasoned with.”

Roark scratched the back of his head with a clawed hand as he looked at his mate.  
“I think I might have some scouts out right now by the border. _If_ they were around when the elves were killed, maybe they saw who did it?”  
Bog shifted his attention back to Roark at that with a tense expression.  
“Where are they now?” he asked.

Roark shrugged his shoulders and Bog rolled his eyes as his wings rattled in irritation. “Don’t worry, I can call them back. They should be here in no time.” Roark sidestepped around Bog to walk off of the platform and back onto the mainland, and as he gave a loud bellow to call back his scouts, Mina walked to stand beside Bog.

“You look well.” She remarked, and Bog felt himself fidget with his scepter. He cleared his throat and nodded his head towards her.  
“Ye too. He seems to treat ye well.”

She smiled genuinely then, and Bog realized he’d missed that dearly, but it was also like something had changed. Somehow the motion didn’t hurt as much as he’d expected, and Bog thought that perhaps his heart had really shriveled up and died at this point.  
_*Well, no waste. I wasn’t going to use it anyway*_

“I’m glad you’ve found someone.” Wait, that didn’t - “What do ye mean?” He asked incredulously as he turned to look at her. She shot him a wink and chuckled a bit at his expression.

“There’s a spring in your step and a fire to your movements that I haven’t seen in a long time! It’s as if you’re alive again.” She said gently, and Bog felt his stomach do a backflip at her words.  
“Also, you’re not hunching over. Which is good, because that’s really not good for you back.“

He didn’t know what to say, and so opted to staring at her in disbelief. That’s when he took note of his posture; he really was not hunching over, and even though he hadn’t slept more than three hours, he felt overly energetic. He swallowed and turned back as Roark returned to stand before them with a smile on his lips.

“They should be here any minute now!” He said with a big smile, and Bog nodded in confirmation.

“We can go inside to wait? I just chopped up some cattails and white mushrooms for a stew?” Roark then added, and Bog was surprised to be invited into the house of the woman he’d nearly enchanted ten years ago.  
He looked at Mina, and she nodded her head in agreement, and though Bog wanted nothing more than to see how she fared now, he was also on a tight deadline.

“The scouts will be here in no time, allow is to accommodate our king for the time being?” Mina said with a certain look in her eyes, and with that Bog knew if he didn’t, she’d let it haunt him for the rest of his days.

And so they went inside.

The house was large, well, it was a hut, but it was nonetheless fit for the ruling pair of the swamps. It was musty and dark and had been built from the bark of a red cypress, a tree that grew in abundance in the surrounding area.  
Vines hung from the ceiling, and in-between them hung crates and baskets filled with food, medicines and minerals. The hut itself held one big room that acted as kitchen, dining area and living quarters, and a staircase at one of the walls led upstairs to what undoubtedly was the sleeping quarters.

Roark had only been chief for three years, and the first thing he did was have the hut of his father expanded into this one. Bog had visited Roark’s father before he died, but he hadn’t seen the head house of the Ceó swamps  
since.  
Mina became Roark’s mate a few months after the incident with the love potion, and Roark had truly been her soulmate. Roark hadn’t needed a love potion to win Mina’s affection, and while that wasn’t the best way to compare the other male to himself, Bog still found that he disliked Roark solely because of it. But the two really fit each other well, he had to admit.

Roark led them all into a circular dip in the floor that held several logs and stones, and a fireplace at the wall encased in the same type of stones as the others. They all sat down almost simultaneously, and Bog had to choose a tall stone that would accommodate his long legs to not appear awkward in the small space.

Before anyone could say anything, a sound from upstairs caught Bog’s attention and as he looked towards the ceiling of the room, Mina fidgeted in her seat.  
“They should be asleep.” She stood from her seat and went towards the staircase. As she disappeared from view, Bog turned his eyes back to Roark.  
“Four girls, quite the handful, but we love them all the same.” He said with a lopsided grin, and if Bog hadn’t seen how merciless he was in battle, he would have doubted the man’s leadership skills.

“Ah’ see.” Bog simply said as he turned his eyes back towards the source of the sound. “We’re trying for a boy again, but if it’s another girl I’ll simply train the oldest to take over after me. The Gods know she’ll be big enough to fight any males out there! It’s actually Mina that didn’t want her to inherit the title - to uphold tradition.”

Bog chuckled - That was Mina alright. Always a stickler for tradition, but still brave enough to pursue her own dreams. Bog knew she’d found just the life she wanted here.

“Well, good luck.” He said with a little humor tinted in to ease Roark’s mind, and the large male grunted affirmably.

“Soo, no news on a future queen for the forest? I know you and Mina was a special case, but I hate to think that the whole thing ruined love for you.”

Bog rolled his eyes. The big loaf surely knew how to break a mood sometimes, and Bog simply rattled his wings as he threw a hard glare Roark’s way.  
“The _thing_ did enough. Don’t get yer hopes up.” He said coldly. Roark nodded and straightened his back before clenching his lips together.   
Bog knew he meant no harm, and he wasn’t the first to ask beside from his own mother, but Bog was beyond tired of being reminded of his solitude. He’d found that ruling alone was better than the alternative, and he didn’t want to get into why he felt that way.  
Hopefully Roark wouldn’t mention it again.

Mina came down after a few minutes and plopped into her seat with a heavy sigh.  
“I swear to Diem, if Gizelle doesn’t get into a better rhythm soon I will knock her unconscious!” Roark shot her an apologetic smile and caressed her hand as it hung between the two. “She’s got a thick skull like me, you could try it!”

Before Bog could comment on Roark’s parenting methods, a rapid knock came from the door and the lot of them stood up immediately.  
Roark walked to the entrance and gently heaved it open with skilled ease - Bog figured he’d usually tear it off its hinges, and how Mina would scold him every time.  
Outside stood a group of goblins of swamp descendency - slugs, snails, frogs and fish. All frilled, slimy and some gilled, and Bog was reminded of how Stuff would drag mucus all over the floor when shedding.  
He was happy he didn’t live in the swamps.

The group perked up when they saw Bog behind their leader, and they all saluted him as he made his way towards them.  
Stepping outside of the hut proved more difficult than he thought, as he was swarmed by the goblin scouts while they all stared at him with awe.  
“Don’t mind them, they are young.” Roark simply stated, and the scouts all but woke up from their stupor to give the king and their leader some space on the platform.  
Bog didn’t waste any time carrying on with his agenda; “Some time early this mornin’, a group of elves was attacked at one of yer outposts. If anyone _saw_ or _heard_ anythin’, now’s th’ time to speak up!”

The group looked nervously between each other as they all started mumbling and shaking their heads. There was about twenty of them, and Bog knew the pattern of four member groups scattered over a large area to cover more ground was much more effective than keeping them all together in one area.  
Someone _had_ to have seen something.

“Um, your highness? Why the sudden concern for the elves?” One frog spoke up, and Bog bared his teeth in a snarl as he rattled his shoulder plates.  
“ _Answer tha’ question.”_ He growled.

The goblin that had spoken up recoiled and another stepped in front of him to speak; “My team saw something shining between the trees! Could’ve been some sort of metal? This was around sunup, so perhaps it could be a lead?”  
Bog looked at him, and he noticed how he was a perfect mix between a frog and a slug - he could’ve been from the same family as the one Roark and Mina had started, and Bog thought perhaps he got special treatment from Roark for looking that way - maybe that was why he was so quick to speak up to prove his worth.

“Aye, did ye get a closer look? Did ye hear anything?” He asked him with a serious expression as he turned towards him, and the tall, lanky goblin brought his hands up to rest under his chin in a “thinking” posture.

“Well, not really. We heard wings flapping, but it was obscured by the leaves! And we tucked tails before investigating, thinking it could’ve been a bird an’ all - do birds eat elves?” He suggested, but Bog knew it hadn’t been a bird.  
“Could’na have been a bird, the corpses were cleanly sliced, not pecked to death.”

Wings, shining metal, happened in the fields and so soon after the fairy king tried to frame him? It certainly seemed to add up in his favor, but Bog didn’t want to announce his thoughts at that moment, knowing that _some_ of the goblins present wouldn’t take too kindly to them. Instead, he gave a swift nod towards the goblin who’d been useful, and then he turned to Roark.

“Keep an eye on yer people, tell me if anythin’ seems out of sorts. An’ keep a close eye on yer borders. This isn’t over yet.”  
Roark gave him a swift nod and then he turned to his group of scouts as Bog made his way over the bridge to the mainland.

He was about to take off into the air as he felt a hand on his shoulder plates. He turned around hesitantly, knowing full well who he would be facing as he did. Mina offered him a respective nod as she removed her hand from his person.  
“Don’t be a stranger. Roark really does enjoy your visits you know, and I… forgave you a long time ago.” She smiled, and while Bog didn’t feel like smiling back he did it for her sake - though it was a strained one.

“Aye, Ah… will try to visit more often, Ah promise.”

“Good. He was starting to think that you disliked Ceó, what with how you visit all the other tribes way more frequently.” She narrowed her eyes at him, and Bog gripped his scepter tightly.

“Ye know why-”

“And I said I _forgive_ you. Bog. You need to let it go. You’ll never be happy if you don’t.” Her eyes were soft then, but her mouth was a thin line as she studied his face.  
Bog sighed and looked off to the side.  
“Fine. But forgivin’ meself does nae excuse wha’ Ah’ did.” His brogue was slipping again, but he couldn’t help it. It was all he could do to not start shaking.

“No, it does not. Just promise me you won’t do it with _her_ , okay?”

He turned his eyes back towards her with an incredulous look in them once again, but before he could inquire further, she interrupted him; “I was the subject of _this,_ remember? I recall your behaviour - that shine in your eyes? The way you hold yourself? I don’t think I’ll call it love just yet, but she’s definitely piqued your interest.”

Bog tried to answer, but he found he had no words worthy of a response. He simply nodded as she raised a brow at him, and when she gave him a satisfied smile, he flared out his wings.

“Good day, Mina.” And with that he was off towards the Dark castle.

“Good day, Bog.”


	9. Chapter 7 - You Dance Beyond my Reach

“Well, that’s just a load of-”

“MUM! Please...”

Bog practically fell down into his throne out of sheer exhaustion, and as he groaned heavily while massaging his temples with his fingers, Griselda looked at her son with concern.

They’d been arguing ever since he came back an hour ago. He’d only been gone for about twenty-four hours, but Griselda had been anxious to hear any sort of news, and so she’d bombarded him with questions the second he set foot in the Dark castle.

“You haven’t slept.” She stated matter of factly then, and Bog knew there was no point in arguing.

“Ah got about two hours at one point.” He sighed as he stretched out his wings and cracked his neck. Both things felt absolutely heavenly, and Bog sank deeper into his seat, practically lying down at this point.

“Oh no, you don’t! Go to your room, sleep in a regular bed for Noctis’ sake!” She went up to pull him upright by the arm, and Bog let himself get dragged into a sitting position. He opened one eye to look at her, and then he smirked.

“Why so concerned? Ye let me go on for _days_ before without sleep.”

Griselda shot him a hard look, and Bog held up his hands before moving to stand. He leaned into his scepter for support and then he felt his mother’s hand on his forearm. She was looking at him with concern now, and Bog sighed.  
Truth be told he felt almost boneless. The adrenaline the stress and the turmoil had brought with it was dying out, and his body was starting to shut down.  
No wonder he was reacting this way though; the whole week had been one big disaster after the other. The fire in the Ceó swamps, the dispute at the northern border, one of his hunting parties going missing the to east at the beginning of the week, and now _this_.

“Your father worked himself into sheer exhaustion on multiple occasions. It cost him greatly - but I don’t think I need to remind you of that.” The words came out cold, and he could tell that his mother hurt for him.

Bog furrowed his brow as he looked at the floor in front of him, his gaze not quite ready to meet his mother’s. He

knew she was right, but as king, it was his _duty_ to make sure his people stayed safe - rest was for the privileged. He offered her a solemn nod and smile in the end, and then he leaned down to rest his forehead against hers.

“‘M sorry.” He said as he took in her familiar and motherly smell, something that never ceased to calm him.   
Griselda leaned into her son’s display of affection, and then she pecked him quickly on the forehead before pushing him towards the entrance of the throne room.

“Go, get some sleep. You’ve got a lot of work in the morning.” She stated with a bit of humor, and Bog gratefully smiled at her before walking into the corridors of the main levels of the castle.

His mother had always been strong, and when she first took the throne with his father, she’d been greatly respected all over the forest right away. Small and stout, but she was loud and boisterous, and she could talk her way out of any situation.

She was also brave and headstrong, and Bog could barely recount the thousands of times his father had set out after her to keep her from harm - a feat managed by few.   
She hadn’t lost her fire, though it had dimmed over the years, and Bog was proud to call her his mother. He hoped she would be around for a long time.

Bog practically let his legs carry him all the way to his quarters, and as soon as the door to his sleeping chamber closed, he went straight for his bed and sat down at the edge of its moss-covered surface.  
He let his hands absentmindedly stroke over the soft texture beneath while he propped his scepter against the closest wall.  
When he was sure it wouldn’t fall over, he closed his eyes and put both hands in his lap as he hunched slightly. His breathing was even, his posture was lax, but on the inside, he was in the middle of a personal storm of emotions.  
He let his mind wander over the sight of the elves on the ground. Blood pooling beneath them, their faces caught in eternal horror, the bloodshot eyes, the missing limbs. He focused in on the cuts, his mind’s eye going carefully over each one.  
_*They’re too clean.*_

He rubbed the palm of his hands over his closed eyes as he moaned in distress. Someone had killed those elves, but they’d done it with weapons of some sort, most likely blades.  
“Axes would leave a mess...”  
Swords then? Seemed the most likely explanation, and Bog fell backward onto his mossy covers as he drew in a long shaky breath.

“Why would they kill them?”  
_*Ta frame_ **_ye_ ** _.*_

Bog opened his eyes and stared into the ceiling of the room. His bed hung suspended from it, and he studied the vines that kept it levitating a few feet off the ground. He placed a foot on the ground and started to rock himself from side to side, his insides boiling with rage, but his outer appearance portrayed no anger.  
 _*’S not like tha’ would surprise ye - would it?*_

“I’ve too many enemies ta’ count… it could be any of ‘em.” He sighed as he closed his eyes once more.

This time his unconsciousness showed him colors of purple, black, brown and gold. His mouth opened slightly as his breathing picked up its pace, his heart thudding loudly against his carapace.

“Who _are_ ye? Wha’ do ye want with me...”

He could feel the silken sensation of her wings on his carapace, the smell of her hair in his nose, the texture of her hand in his.  
_I wouldn’t quite call it love yet._

He respected her. It was rare that he respected anyone like this, and he was surprised to realize that he wanted to get to know her. He never cared for anyone, it brought nothing but hardships and heartache to care, and he was so certain he’d cut himself off from these feelings. So why was he feeling this way?

We’re alike in some ways, are we not? I can see it in your eyes - you despise them too.  
_*Ye fight for the same thing as I.*_

He let himself fall deeper into the sensation as his breathing hitched once more. The foot at the edge of the bed hung limply as pinpricks of needles shot down his body. His spine buzzed, his wings quivered and his claws dug into the moss beneath him.  
He saw her before him in the moonlight, her silhouette lit up by liquid silver and her white shawl dancing around her. She crept closer, her eyes glowing like gold, _real_ gold, and he reached out to her.  
_*Are ye all right?*_

He felt the ghost of a touch at his neck, and he craned it to bare his pulse to his invisible assailant - but no one came. Not even to slit his throat, and the feeling of loneliness that he knew so well crept over him. It all left him cold, breathless and shaking.

_Deal?_

“Aye yer highness.” He opened his eyes and stared into the darkness. Night had reached him, and Bog was surprised to find that he’d actually fallen asleep to the ghostly memory of _her._

“Three days.” He murmured before he closed his eyes to let sleep claim him once more.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

_*A few hours earlier._

“Are you okay!?”

Dawn perked up when she heard Sunny at the entrance to the infirmary of the elf village. She ran over to him to catch him in a warm embrace, and Marianne felt her heart stir at the sight.  
He eagerly returned her affections and shifted to caress her cheek as they parted. They held each other’s eyes for some time, and Marianne once again thought it impossible that Dawn still hadn’t realized that Sunny felt for her as more than a friend.  
Her sister was such a - wait, did they just?

Marianne’s eyes widened as Sunny leaned in to catch Dawn’s lips in his own, and she almost forgot to breathe as her baby sister happily laughed into the kiss before returning it.

“I was so scared that… it was you.” She said, and his thumb crept up to catch a tear as it drifted down her cheek.

“Me too. When I heard that fairies had been found… Gods.” He hugged her again, and Dawn let herself get crushed against him as she sobbed happily into his arms.  
Time seemed to stand still for Marianne, and while her stomach churned at the raw show of affection, real affection, she just couldn’t feel jealousy with Dawn - not her Dawn.

They both stood after some time of reassuring each other that they were both fine and then they simultaneously noticed how Marianne was staring at them.

“It’s rather new?” Dawn tried with an apologetic look her way, but Marianne didn’t respond.  
She simply blinked, then she blinked again, but then her face finally cracked into a smile as she walked over to them.  
“About time!” She said as she caught her sister in an embrace strong enough to steal all her air. Dawn made a mock sound of suffocation, and then the two sisters laughed as they parted.  
“What happened?” Marianne asked breathlessly with her arms gesturing between them.

“I woke up to smell the roses?” Dawn tried again, and her eyes softened as she looked at Sunny. Marianne had seen Dawn “in love” many times before, but this was it. This was really it.

“Sunny asked if I wanted to be his date at the spring ball later this month, and I teased about his intentions.” Dawn picked at a strand of her hair before tucking it behind her ear with a blush in her cheeks.

“That led to the real talk we should’ve probably had for years!” Sunny chimed in with a cheerful expression, and Marianne nodded in his direction.  
“He finally told you huh?” She winked at her sister, and Dawn gently pushed at her shoulders in mock annoyance.

“You’re one to talk! You knew!” She scrunched up her nose and glared at the both of them, but then a sound came from the back of the entry hall, and they all turned to look at Sunny’s father.

“Your Highness, if you would please follow.” He said as he looked at her, and then he looked at Sunny.  
“You two can join too, but I must warn you; it’s not a pretty sight.”

They all looked at one another, and then they went to follow the old elf into a long slim corridor. Marianne couldn’t help but notice how the sound of their footsteps seemed to drown into a singular thudding as if the tunnel swallowed up the sound and spat it back out anew - it was an eerie sensation, and Marianne couldn’t wait to get to the other side.

  
The tunnel wasn’t very long, and when they reached the other end no one spoke a word, as they emerged into a well-lit room filled with examination tables. Marianne found that she instantly wished to be back in the tunnel as she looked around.  
The room was probably some sort of operating room for the more severely injured, but right now all it held were the four bodies of the fallen elves and a few Elven doctors.

The bodies had each been placed carefully at their respective tables, together with any dismembered limbs or personal effects, and several items caught Marianne’s attention.  
There was a basket by the mother, empty now, but with no doubt filled to the brim earlier with some sort of food. The girls each had a satchel at their side, and they had been emptied of their contents; needles, lockets, pieces of weaved straw, buttons and caps - the list was endless, but they were all items that had meant something at some point.  
Now they were just another line of scribbles on an inventory note.

Marianne noticed a brownie at the far end of the room, and as their eyes met they both crossed to reach each other.  
“What did you find?” She asked as soon as the brownie was within earshot. He fiddled with his hands as he looked from body to body before nodding towards the father of the family.

“That one had a knife on him, a big one - probably for hunting. It laid a few feet away from the scene, and it was covered in a thick layer of blood. Whatever attacked them got hurt though, for it wasn’t elf blood on the blade.”

Marianne looked at him with pressing eyes, and so he continued; “It was…” He looked between them all with a nervous look in his eyes, and then he settled back on Marianne. “Goblin blood.”

Marianne didn’t say anything for a long while, she simply couldn’t.  
“Are you sure?” Dawn added from the side, and the brownie turned his head to look at her.

“Almost certainly.” He said with a quiver in his voice.

“Almost?” Marianne perked up then and kneeled down to be face to face with the brownie. Brownies were known for their sense of smell, and hearing a brownie say “almost certain” was cause for alarm.  
“Eh, em... yes well, there was another smell on the blade. It was sort of sweet, but the goblin blood toned it out - I don’t know what it was.”

Marianne rose to her full height again, her wings twitching in agitation.  
“The goblin blood. Did you find the source?” She looked the brownie dead in the eye, and his eyes widened as his eyebrows rose.

“I’m not… we didn’t look for the goblin, your highness. We figured it had split long before we got there?” Oh but he looked nervous then; like he’d missed some big piece of a puzzle, but that wasn’t what annoyed Marianne. What annoyed her was that the brownie seemed to believe a goblin was their culprit so easily.

“That’s fine… you’re dismissed, for now, thank you for your services.” She nodded towards the brownie, and the small creature bowed before walking towards the exit, a look of thoughtfulness and concern written on his face.

“Maybe the blade was poisoned? Honey was often mixed into the liquid to disguise the poison’s smell, maybe that’s why the blade smelled sweet?.” Alfred tried, and Marianne looked at him with earnest consideration.  
“Do elves poison their blades?” She asked.

Alfred was about to say something, but Sunny stepped up beside him to answer her; “Not for a long time! The poisons were too delicate to work with, and now we rely more on the efficiency of arrows and spears to bring down prey.”  
Alfred huffed beside him and Sunny shrunk down a little at the hard glare he was given. “But Melvan _was_ of the old school. His father was among those who gladly used the poisons back when they were produced, and perhaps his old blade still carried some of it?” He gestured towards the dead male elf.

So the knife was an heirloom then. To a brownie nose something that old could carry all sorts of smells - but those two had been the freshest and therefore the easiest to detect.  
“Could you get the knife tested? Maybe some of the sprites of the Crystalline falls will be able to decipher what the blade was smeared in.” She said as she went over to expect the little girl with the severed arm, and some of the doctors nearby went to pick up the knife and make it ready to be transported to the falls.

Alfred walked up beside her with a thoughtful look on his face.  
“I’ve lived a long time, but even in all my years I’ve never seen a _goblin_ with a sword or an axe.”

She looked down at him in confusion, but as their eyes met something clicked in her head. She looked back at the severed limb, then at the wound on the shoulder it had been detached from. The flesh bore several incisions, as if something had been slicing into it, and the bone of the arm and shoulder had deep marks like it had been hit several times with an axe to get it to break.  
“Goblin’s slices or tears their victims with their claws. _That_ -” Alfred pointed to the gnarly mess of flesh and tendons.  
“That was _cut_ with a sword, and the bones were seperated with an axe.” He finished.

“The body is too drained of blood, the cuts are too clean. Tearing the tendons would have made them snap to close up the wound, slicing them and hacking them...” Marianne added, and she looked down at him once more to see how he nodded at her analysis.  
  
She looked at the wound on the chest of the girl. One straight line, slim and once again too clean. She… she’d been stabbed.  
Marianne felt herself go pale at the realization. She was right, Bog was right… Roland was -

“I need to see the bodies of my people. I can’t know for sure before I’ve seen them.” She said frantically and Dawn and Sunny perked up behind them as Marianne turned around to leave the infirmary. Before she got very far, she felt a hand grab her arm.  
She spun around to look at Alfred, and his sorrowful expression made her stop her stampede to exit the room. He let her hand go and sighed heavily.  
“Things aren’t always what they seem. You have my support, and the Elven village will stand at your side. But…” He looked towards Sunny and the young elf shifted from one foot to another under his father’s gaze.

“I would appreciate it if no more blood was shed. Fairy, elf _or_ goblin.” He looked her in the eyes then, and Marianne felt them grip her like a vice.  
She nodded solemnly, but then she recalled why she’d also been in the elf village - “The funeral! We need to make arrangements for the funerals!” She turned around fully to face them all with a look of distress on her face.

It was her queenly duty to overlook these things, but she also needed to get back to the castle! Her eyes went

wild and she started to pace back and forth as the stress of the situation overtook her, and before Alfred could even try to calm her down she continued;

“If we hurry, like _really_ hurry, maybe we can be done in a couple of hours, and then - “

“Marianne, you _have_ to go!” Dawn stepped up to her, and Alfred got out of her way as the princess laid her hands on her sister’s shoulders.  
“ _Sunny_ and _I_ will handle the funeral arrangements with his dad! You need to hurry back to the castle and find out more!”

Her sister’s eyes shone with determination and the quick bout of stress that had claimed Marianne dissipated at the sight.  
She looked between them all, and it was as if a special sort of agreement settled between them, the lot of them giving her determined nods and smiles.  
She then hugged Dawn swiftly before murmuring a _thank you_ in her ear, and then she once again turned to run back out through the slim corridor and into the afternoon air.  
  
This, of course, would screw up her plans with Bog to meet in three days, but she figured she could conjure up and excuse to go back to Elven in that time. Then again, if she was right on this, perhaps she had enough evidence to convince the council that Roland was lying, and she could stop this entire thing before it even became a problem!  
  
Here’s to hoping anyway.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Marianne landed in the courtyard with a heavy thud, and her indigo dress flared around her hips as the wind caught under it. She was glad she’d worn thick heels today, making all the running around she’d had to do much easier than if she’d gone with Roland’s suggestion of thin, fragile stilettos.  
_They make your backside look so fine though darling, I don’t understand why you wouldn’t want to flatter people_ _with your figure!_

She’d dismissed his words with an audible scoff, their meaning having finally caught up to her after all these years. She’d learned that they were never meant to make _her_ feel flattered.  
Roland would try to convince her to dress up like a fool, to go with the lighter colors that would make her seem more mellow, the low cuts that would expose way too much skin, and in general outfits that would make physical feats like running and flying almost impossible to manage.

Marianne folded her wings neatly behind her as one of the guards positioned at the front doors of the castle ran over to her, a look of worry marred into her eyes, and it was then that Marianne remembered how she’d left Elven village without telling her escorts.  
She was alone, and it was never good when she was out on her own.

“Your Highness! What happened, where is everyone?!” The guard asked, and her green eyes widened in terror as she looked the queen over. Her dress was covered in dirt as well as her shoes, the high collar at her neck was all ruffled up and her hair probably looked a mess.  
She held up her hands to calm her frightened guard and went to answer her in a soothing voice; “Don’t worry, I am fine. An emergency has come up though, and so I need you to tell me exactly where they’ve taken the bodies of our fallen kin.”

The guard looked her over one more time, not entirely convinced, but then she nodded her head in the direction of the stables courtyard.  
“The morgue, I’ll take you there myself your majesty.” She said with a strict tone, and Marianne knew there was no point in arguing - the guard probably wanted to make sure at she was as alright as she claimed.

The guard called back towards the front doors, and the second guard situated there called back to her in an affirmative voice before he snatched a horn from the satchel at his side. The tune was long and dark, and  
Marianne knew it meant that the entire castle now knew she was home.   
She had to act fast before Roland came for her.

“Lead the way.” Marianne said urgently, and the guard motioned for Marianne to follow her towards the stables courtyard.

Marianne noticed as they walked that the air around them was heavy, and it was only now that she took the time to look upwards towards the sky. There was no sun to be seen as clouds hung heavy and pregnant with rain, and  
Marianne’s eyes widened in terror. When had the weather shifted? hadn’t it been sunny out just this morning? Had she really been so distracted that she hadn’t noticed how cold it had been while flying?

The rain was a disaster to anything with wings, as the fat drops could break and tear them with no effort, and Marianne feared for her sister’s and guard’s safe return to the castle. But it also made perfect sense now that the guard currently in front of her had looked so terrified for her.

“When do you reckon that will hit us?” Marianne asked, and the guard threw a quick glance back at her, and then towards the sky.  
“From the size, density and color of those clouds? I’d say we have about half an hour… maybe an hour, before this place becomes drenched… Your majesty.”

Marianne’s stomach sunk, and she felt like she forgot to breathe at that very moment. No, Dawn was smart, and she would have a safe place to ride it out in Elven. Besides; she had Sunny with her, and Marianne knew Sunny wouldn’t let Dawn leave before the rain stopped for good.  
Her guards would be okay too, they would not be stupid enough to fly into a storm, and Dawn probably wouldn’t let them.

They ran across the courtyard where Marianne had been training that previous day, and she could feel the ache in her muscle like a distant memory. They were flaring to life in well-known surroundings, and thrumming with the sorrow of never getting to do that again.  
She was never going to be able to train here the same way again…

There were four individual archways that led inside the castle, one to the armory, one to the underground hot springs, one to the main hall of the castle, and one to the infirmary and morgue. The two of them turned down that one, and the sound of their feet reverberated throughout the stony tunnel, but this time the sound didn’t collide into one but instead bounced and played in their ears like a distant drumming.

The tunnel was lit up by bioluminescent fungi, and the walls shone like crystals in their light. One of many nooks and crannies, Marianne reminded herself, and she found that she quite liked the tunnels of her castle right at that moment - like they held a world in which you could disappear for just a moment.  
They took a left turn where the tunnel forked into two, as the other path held the infirmary.

The tunnel ended faster than Marianne remembered, and light cast from torches placed along the walls lit up the room they now entered. It was a necessity, as no natural light could make it into this part of the castle, which was essentially underground.  
The room had an eerie, dungeon-like feel to it, but that was unavoidable what with how it was cut out in stone, naturally dark, and musty since the hot springs laid beneath it.

The morgue usually never held any corpses, and the corpses it did hold were always in and out with haste, as death was not something fairies were used to. They wanted no reminder of the end of a life, and so funerals were always quickly arranged, and the morgue went practically unused.  
Marianne herself hadn’t been down here a lot, and while she was of course happy that she hadn’t, perhaps having seen the room more frequently would calm her nerves.

Her skin prickled with goosebumps at the many stone slabs that stood in the center, and her breath was heavy with unease. There were ten slabs, and Marianne knew they were mostly there for last minute inspections, otherwise, the corpses were placed in the elongated holes in the walls. Those, there were hundreds of.

She shook herself out of her daze and went over to the five closest stone slabs. She steeled herself for what she saw, but even one hundred years of preparation could not have kept her tears at bay.  
On four respective slabs lay her friends, well, most of them. Two held the almost complete corpses of David and Almar, except they had been chewed up and several limbs were almost removed, and one held the bloodied sword and helmet of Marcus.  
The last held small pieces of Freya’s torn golden wings and the battered shield she’d brought with her.

Marianne turned to the guard behind her with a questioning look on her face, and the guard bowed her head.  
“That was all the goblins returned with. We went out to look for more ourselves of course, but it really is all there is left.”

Marianne turned back around to look at the gore before her again, and she took in a deep breath before she leaned in to look closer at the wounds and marks on David’s body.  
He was battered and bruised, purple and black marks sprouted angrily across his now ashen grey skin, but the puncture wounds on his lower abdomen did _not_ look like they’d been inflicted by a sword, or an axe for that matter.

The weapon that had been used hadn’t been sharpened to perfection, and the wound was a mess because of it.  
Still, it had been plunged deep within him with enough force to break his armor and fracture his hipbone while also creating a huge gash that revealed his intestines. The size of the gash was also weird - had he been stabbed multiple times for it to get this big, or had the weapon really been that large?

As her eyes scanned over him she noticed how awkward the angle of his hips really were, and she was surprised to find that his back had actually been broken.

“That was what killed him… But then why stab him?” She murmured to herself in disbelief.

The guard behind her perked up and walked over to stand beside Marianne.  
“Did you say something, your highness?” She asked in earnest, and Marianne was pretty sure she could trust this one.  
“His back was broken. That’s how he died.” She said as she gestured to the weird angle David was lying in, even though he had been placed down with care.  
“So why proceed to stab him over and over? Why open him up like this?” Marianne said as she turned to look the guards straight in the eyes.  
The guard proceeded to let her eyes wander over the wounds on David’s abdomen, and her brows furrowed in confusion.

“Ma’am, I’m not so sure he was stabbed. Looks to me like he was bitten?” She said, her voice uncertain, but the words did open up for a whole new topic of discussion. Marianne inspected the wounds once again, looked up and then went over to inspect Almar.

His shoulder was nothing but one deep puncture wound, and the bone of his left arm had popped out of the socket, so the limb now hung limply at his side. It wouldn’t take much to pull it off, as the flesh around it was severely marred too, exposing his upper rib cage, collarbone, and breastbone, and Marianne had to cover her mouth with her hand to keep from grimacing.

It did look like that was the most fatal of his injuries, as the rest were _just_ bruises and scratches, and Marianne just hoped he died quickly from the blood loss. Though she was pretty sure that, that hadn’t been the case.

She took in another deep breath and tried to exhale as calmly as possible before she studied the puncture wound. This was made from the same blunt object, and therefore not a sword or an axe, and Marianne didn’t need to know more to be certain of her theory.  
This wasn’t the same killer as the one who did the elves in.  
  
Marianne turned to look at the guard who was still standing by David’s corpse, and the fairy stood alert the second she noticed her queen was looking at her.  
“Ma’am? Do you need something?”  
  
Marianne walked over to her while trying to smile as gently as possible. “No, not right now. You’ve been of great help. I need you to go back to your post and not to mention to anyone what we’ve discussed.”  
The guard nodded at her, and after looking Marianne over one more time to make sure she was okay, the guard turned and walked towards the corridor they’d entered from earlier.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The oaken doors of the council room slammed open as Marianne entered. Her eyes were wild, her wings were spread and her entire posture radiated with unyielding anger.

The murmurs that had dominated the room seconds before died out, and the councilmembers all stiffened in their seats at the sight of their queen.  
Even Hector shut his mouth abruptly, and the old man sat back down in his chair at the head of the room. Roland felt himself jump a bit in his own seat, but he nonetheless stood to regard his wife.

“Darling! You’re back! And just in time too; I was just telling everyone about the treacherous murders tha-”

“The killings were done by two different groups, _not_ the same.” She shot back before he could finish, and Roland felt his blood boil. She had been interrupting him a lot lately, he had to put her back in her place before he lost face in front of the council.

“Oh? And what makes you say that?” He said with a charming smile and a calm voice, but the councilmembers around him still stirred and looked between each other nervously.  
_Two killers? What does that mean? Are we being invaded?_

“ _I_ say that. After thoroughly inspecting the corpses myself, the only thing they had in common was that they had died a gruesome death. They had, however, been killed in two different ways.”  
The words rang out through the room as she stopped in the middle of the many rows of tribunes containing the council, and even though the rows of chairs grew upwards along the walls, his queen had never looked greater and larger than in that moment.  
It annoyed Roland severely.

“Well. Maybe the goblin’s changed their weapons when they attacked the second time? To mislead us?” He said as he looked around at the council, and to his satisfaction, quite a few nodded their heads.

“When was the last time you saw a goblin with a weapon, Roland?” She said back, impeccably calm and annoyingly well-tempered.

“Why, when I was attacked of course!” He laughed back in a mocking tone, but before he could enjoy his victory, the damn wench spoke again; “Of course. And were the swords blunt or sharp?” She said while raising a brow, and before thinking, Roland mockingly quipped back at her;   
“Why blunt of course! The beasts probably stole them and didn’t know how to sharpen them! Good thing too; had they been sharp we would’ve probably been a lot worse off!”

The council laughed with him, and Roland felt giddy with delight. Things were going his way, and his plan was -

“Funny. You know my personal guards were not stabbed to death with swords, right?”

Roland stopped laughing and looked at her. Her eyes were cold but observing, and he thought he saw the corner of her mouth pull in a _smirk_.  
Fuck.

“Ah well, I-”

“They were pulled, smashed, and impaled on large objects. Their bones were crushed in several places, and their armor had been pierced by huge chunks of something we believe to be teeth of some sort. But there is no doubt that _swords_ , were _not_ involved.”

“Well, some.. some had axes too! And spears!” He almost shouted, and Roland had to collect himself as to not sound a little winded. The council was looking at him intently, and Roland could feel how he was starting to sweat.

“Axes and spears are out of the question too. The puncture wounds found on them were deep and even. Axes would have made slits in the flesh, and spears are not wide enough to create such holes.” She lifted her head at him, and then she turned her eyes to meet Hector’s.

Roland was shaking subtly. No, this was not happening, she was not supposed to -

“So, what you’re saying, your highness, is that we have _two_ different perpetrators out there; one goblin and the other - ”

“The only proof we have of it being goblins, are the words of a man who _hates_ goblins.” She interrupted Hector with a sharp snap of her tongue, and the old man’s eyes grew angry.  
“He is our _king_ -”

“And _I_ am your _Queen_!” She practically shouted back at them all.

The room grew completely still, silence eating up even the subtle sound of breathing, but Roland’s ears were ringing and pounding with the staccato of his heart.  
Sure his plan had been a bit...rushed, but he had been sure that it would work.

“Pu-pulled apart and smashed seems like something the goblins _would_ do though, don’t you think?” He stammered, and Marianne looked at him, an eyebrow raised and her head cocked.  
“S _eems like_ ? I thought you were _there_ darling? Didn’t you and your men _fight_ the goblins?”

Her smirk was triumphant, and Roland knew at that moment that Marianne would never be convinced of his claims, and if he didn’t ask fast, she would win over the council.  
_*_ **_MY_ ** _damn council! I’ve worked too hard to have them doubt me!*_

“I was! I did! A-and they were pulling! Scratching too, like animals!” He straightened himself up and caught the eyes of Conrad, who had been uncomfortably silent this entire time.  
Conrad was sitting at the chair beside Hector’s, and the two men were the most important assets of his plan. They were on his side, they believed that something happened to him, but they were also stupidly loyal to his wife  
\- at least when it came to her position.

“Are you questioning my story, Marianne? After I came back battered and bruised? Are you really _that_ naive to believe the lies uttered by that _monster?_ ” He said with a bit more control in his voice.  
He needed to get her angry while he remained calm, he needed to make her stumble and most importantly; he needed to make fall from that pedestal she was currently placing herself on.

“How _dare you!?_ ” She sneered.

Roland was the one to smirk now at his wife’s sudden outburst, and he continued before she could retaliate; “You were quite quick to believe the _Bog king_ when he said no goblin under _his_ command had attacked.   
Quite convenient that the second murder happened when he was here though? He couldn’t _possibly_ have given the command unless of course there was a plan? Quite _clever_ on his part.”  
He looked around himself as he smoothed down his hair, taking great care in letting his eyes linger on Conrad and Hector, who both seemed to take his words to heart. The council was back to murmuring, and if he just kept it up -

“What reason do they have to attack?! Before these incidents, the forest hadn’t been in contact with us for _years!_ ” Marianne said as she aimed her attention at the whole room. Hector leaned forward in his seat as he spoke directly to her;  
“Quite true my queen! So tell me, who do _you_ think it could be? We have no enemies as far as we know! The goblins are the only logical explanation so far! _And_ they attacked the king!” He tried, but fury caught in Marianne’s eyes and he recoiled before the words were even out of her mouth.

“They attacked _according_ to the king!”

Hector’s eyes were stone cold now, but it was Conrad who stood up to talk this time;  
“Your majesty. Are you accusing the king of _treason_?”

The murmurs stopped, the shouting stopped, time itself stopped and Roland’s breathing stopped. Was she? Sure sounded like it, but would she be so brave?  
_*She’s got no evidence*_

“I…”

She was hesitating! This was good, he could still win this!

“She has no evidence, no evidence of her claims.” He straightened up once again and folded out his wings in a challenge against her.  
“And I am quite frankly _hurt_ that she’d doubt me.” He put as much effort into sounding as wounded as he could, and the many eyes around him turned confused, bitter and disappointed.   
And they were all looking at _her._

“The wounds are not the same. Not on the victims, and not on _him_ and his men.” She nodded her head towards him, and Roland had to mentally remind himself not to touch the small scratch on his face.

“ _My_ guards were a mess when they came back. Looking as if something _chewed them up_ and then _spit_ them back out. Have you ever seen a goblin big enough to do that? And how come you came back with nothing but scratches and bruises?” She said, and unfortunately, she said it _calmly_.

Roland felt the shift in the room and how all the eyes were now on him alone. He cleared his throat and spread out his wings further.  
_*Don’t panic now.*_

“They sacrificed themselves. They laid down their lives taking out the biggest of the goblins so that I could escape. They told me to get back to the castle, to safety, and to take my men with me.”  
He didn’t quiver, he didn’t stammer, and he made sure to bow his head in grief as he said it.

“I didn’t want to… I _couldn’t_ . But they _made_ me, I had no choice.” He heaved in a breath as if to seem shaken, and the council turned their eyes back to Marianne.

“How _noble_ of them.” She spat as her eyes turned to angry slits and her mouth sneered. Not very lady-like, but it would work out in his favor if she kept the behaviour up.  
“Still, there are no goblins that big.” She said as she regained her posture.

The room broke out in whispers and murmurs, each neighbouring member discussing with the other, and it was all one big chaos of opinions.  
Roland couldn’t quite make out who was winning, but he heard both their names mentioned several times, along with _makes no sense_ and _what is the meaning of it all_.

It was, in the end, Conrad who spoke to break the tension; “Settle down everyone, settle down. Your highness - “ He was looking at _her_ when he spoke; “These are all valid points, but seeing as king Roland was the only one here that was present at the fight, he is the only one with solid evidence!”

  
“The elves were attacked with swords, _sharp_ swords. They were stabbed, sliced and cut open, and they all died by bleeding out.” She stated matter of factly.  
Conrad nodded his head in agreement, but a look of confusion was painted on his features as he motioned for her to go on.

“I don’t care what Roland says, goblins have no use of weapons. They have their claws and fangs, not to mention immense strength, what use would a sword be to them? And we already established that the first battle was not fought with weapons, as the wounds on the fairy guards indicate.”

“My wounds were made with weapons! My men’s too!” Roland shouted, and Conrad turned to look at him with a bewildered look on his face. Clearly, the old man was having trouble keeping up with the story.

“I thought you said the goblin’s _pulled_ and _scratched? Like animals.”_ Marianne said as she flared her wings slightly, making them quiver and cast purple hues on the floor.  
Roland was about to shout something at her when a swift motion in front of him, stopped him.

“ENOUGH!” Hector shouted as he stood from his seat and flared out his own brown wings.   
The room stilled once more, and Marianne looked expectantly at the old man while Roland gritted his teeth together in anxiousness.

“This whole thing is getting all.. muddied up! There is no order anymore, there is no sense!” He looked at Marianne then, and she squared her shoulders at him as her eyes shone with determination.

“The whole thing makes plenty sense to me.” She said, and Roland was about to speak up when Hector held up a hand to stop him. He then nodded towards Marianne who continued;

“Roland lied about the attack to frame the goblins. Something big attacked them all, something with fangs large enough to deal the damage that has been dealt.”

Hector seemed to think for a few moments before he spoke again; “And the second attack? Who did that?”

“I… don’t know.” She said, and she sounded rather breathless, mirthless, but her eyes still shone.

“And why would the king lie?” Conrad raised an eyebrow at her, and Roland held his breath.

“I… don’t know that either.” Her shoulders sagged at the same time Roland’s did, but his did so in relief while hers  
did so in defeat.

“Well it’s obvious; I didn’t lie.” Roland countered as _he_ now squared his shoulders, his wings swaying behind him. She looked up at him, and he could tell she was not buying it. Well, obviously, with how she’d just accused him with treason after all.

“I think the best course of action would be to bury this discussion.” Hector then stated matter of factly after several minutes, and Conrad nodded beside him.

“What?!” Marianne shouted incredulously.

“Well, we aren’t exactly getting anywhere, are we?” Conrad added as he looked out upon his council.  
“The meeting is over, no one shall speak of this.”

“It is not over! We are _not_ done!” Marianne shouted as she looked at them all, her wings shivering in aggravation.

“What more, pray tell, is there to say?! You have no conclusive evidence! You claim your king, your _husband,_ a traitor based on the marks on corpses! And for what?!” Conrad shouted back, and Roland was impressed with how boldly he talked to his queen.

“If the Bog king finds out we’re bickering like this, that we’re fighting amongst ourselves, he could launch an official attack, a _real_ attack! The kingdom is not strong if we’re not united, and I will not give the Dark Forest an excuse to overpower us!”   
Conrad said as he looked out at the people gathered in the large room, and more than a few recoiled at the thought. Roland smirked in satisfaction, it seems like they’d taken to his claim of the Bog king being behind this after all.  
_*Hmm, and the attack part’s not a bad idea either.*_

“You are so dead set on it being him, aren’t you? I don’t matter what I say, you’re in such a rush to doubt him, to blame him.”  
Marianne’s tone was flat and unfeeling, but her face was torn in a disappointed expression.

“You’re so quick to _trust_ him _milady._ ” Conrad said with a neutral expression.  
“What has _he_ ever done to earn such trust? What has _he_ done to make your accuse your own husband?” He continued, and the council all looked at her once again.

“Remember; his parents played a great part in the death of your mother. Who says you can trust _him_ ?” Hector spoke up from behind Conrad, and his eyes held both sympathy and worry.

Roland snapped his fingers and laughed. “The Bog king also carries a weapon!”

Marianne narrowed her eyes and cocked her head to the side. “What are you talking about?” She asked, her voice a sneer but also filled with confused apprehension.

“You asked me before sweetheart, and my answer is this; The _Bog king_ carries a weapon, so _yes_ , I’ve very much seen a goblin with a weapon before. What with how you don’t believe my story, I’d say _that’s_ a sufficient answer?”  
He countered mockingly.

Her ears and cheeks reddened with anger, or was it humiliation? Roland didn’t care, he just loved to watch the way she squirmed. Why but this was perfect, couldn’t have turned out better in fact!  
_*They’re afraid now. They have no idea what’s going on, and it frightens them. And they don’t believe_ **_her_ ** _.*_

“You want evidence?” Marianne said as she folded her wings swiftly behind her. Her look was stern and her body seemed to vibrate with anger, but she nonetheless held herself together.

“I will get you evidence.” And with that she turned around and walked out the doors.


	10. Chapter 8 - Unknowing

_*Twenty years ago_  


_Not many years their rounds shall roll,  
_

_Each moment brings it nigh._ _  
_

_And all your glories stand revealed,_ _  
_

_To our admiring eye._   


_You wills of nature speed your course,_

_You mortal powers decay._

_Fast as you bring the night of death,_

_You bring eternal day._  


Marianne felt the hand gently glide through her hair, the long brown locks flowing down below her waist, and she knew her mother was braiding it. _Unruly_ , she often called it, but so very soft and wavy, and Marianne wanted to grow it as long as her mom’s.  
_You need to keep it short my love, otherwise, people might grab it!  
_ And then she’d playfully tug on her braids, and Marianne would squeal in delight as her mother blew raspberries on her cheeks.

The motion continued as Helena hummed gently for her daughters, and Marianne became drowzier as the

minutes passed and the song carried on.  
She felt her mom lace tiny buttercup buds in between each individual braid, and Marianne could smell their sweet aroma from her place at her mother’s side.

_The storms and hurricanes arise,_

_The desert all around._

_And fiery serpents oft appear,_

_Through the enchanted ground._  


_Dark night and clouds and gloomy fear,_

_And dragons often roar._

_But when the gospel trump we hear,_

_We'll press for Canaan's shore._  


Marianne pressed herself closer and inhaled her mother’s smell of strawberries and rainwater - a soothing combination that always lulled her right to sleep on days like these.  
Dawn tugged at their mother’s sleeves on her opposite side with a worried expression on her face.

“Mom, do we have dragons in the Fairfields?” She asked while pouting, and her face made Marianne snicker and lean towards her sister.  
“Sure we do! Big, fire-breathing beasts! With wings, just like us! Except they EAT US!”

And with that, she sprung from her mother’s side and roared while chasing Dawn off the bed and around their room.  
The smaller fairy wailed as she flapped her wings, but she was still too little to keep herself airborne for too long, and so Marianne lept into the air to fly above her while she growled and snarled.

“Marianne! Stop that! You’re scaring her!” Her mother commanded, and Marianne landed with indignity. She never got to have any fun.  
“Sorry mom, she’s just so easy to scare!” She stuck her tongue out at her sister who’d hidden behind their mother’s legs, and Dawn stuck her tongue out back at her in retaliation. “Am not!” She insisted, but as her mother stood from Dawn’s bed, Dawn quickly dashed up on it to crawl beneath the rose petal covers.

Marianne was about to jump in after her, but her mother picked her up at the waist and slung her over her shoulders.  
She then proceeded to walk over to Marianne’s own bed, and then she turned to fall back onto it with her squealing daughter in her arms. Dawn crept out from under her covers with glee, dashed towards Marianne’s bed and jumped onto it to land beside their mom.  
Marianne in the meantime had been placed on her mother’s abdomen and was now being tickled into submission by both Helena and Dawn.

“NO! STOP! I’M NOT A DRAGON, I’M NOT A DRAGON!!” She screamed in between giggles and laughter, and the two assailants eventually let her go. Marianne rolled off of her mother and Dawn wasted no time tackling her where she landed at Helena’s side.  
The flower head bed swung from side to side, and Helena cradled her girls in her arms as they all laughed.

“I like that song.” Marianne concluded. Her mom sang it often enough that she knew the words by heart, and when she saw her friends again she’d teach it to them too - she figured Freya would love it!

“I like the one with the ship!” Dawn announced from between Marianne and their mother, and Helena looked down at her small daughter with delight.  
“I like both. And I’ll make sure to teach them to your children too someday.”

Marianne made a face of disgust while Dawn simply nodded happily at their mother’s remark.

“I’m never having children! That means I’d need to find a boy to marry! I don’t want to be married!” Marianne proudly exclaimed as she stood up on the bed striking a pose. “I’ll be the best queen ever! I don’t have time to marry a boy!”  
Her mother chuckled and sat up with Dawn in her lap. “Well, maybe you’ll change your mind when you find the right boy?”

“My boy will be really beautiful! And he will be funny, and he will sing with me every day! Like dad and you do mom!” Dawn exclaimed with glee, and Marianne plopped back down on the bed and scrunched up her nose in mock disgust.  
“Phe, I don’t want one! So I don’t care what they do!” She crossed her arms, but her mom put a hand out to caress her cheek as she gently rocked Dawn in her arms.  
“Alright my love, you decide what you want for yourself.”  
Marianne nodded determinedly as she shot her mother a big smile.

“You know. I didn’t want a boy either. _But_ then I met your daddy, and he was really nice to me. He made me realize that, needing a boy and wanting one is not the same thing, and so I married him.” She winked at her girls, and Marianne donned a thoughtful expression.

“But remember; you should never treat anyone as if they belong to you. Love is a mutual understanding, and you shouldn’t be forced to be with someone you don’t love. I know we say you _want_ one, but never expect someone to be with you if they don’t want to.”

  
“ _Be_ with you?” Dawn asked in a confused tone.  
“Eh, like.. being friends! You wouldn’t force someone to be your friend right?” Their mother added, and Dawn’s face lit up with understanding as she shook her head. “Of course not! That would be mean!” Marianne said, and her mother seemed happy with her answer.  
Helena moved to turn Marianne around, and when she was properly seated her mother started to braid her hair again.  
The buttercups had fallen out, and now they laid scattered around the room like little yellow droplets of sunlight.

“Mom, when are Freya and Almar coming over?” Marianne asked her as she started another braid, and Helena chuckled behind her.  
“Are you excited to see them?” Marianne nodded her head and in the meantime Dawn jumped from the bed to start picking up the buttercups.

“I think they are coming with their dad tomorrow.” Helena said gently as she watched her youngest flounder around to snatch up every single flower into her arms.

“Are you going to the dark place?” Marianne said, worry eminent in her voice, and her mother reached out to stroke her cheek from behind as Dawn looked at them both.  
“I don’t like the forest.” Dawn said with her arms full of the yellow buttercups.

“There is nothing to be afraid of. The Dark Forest is a wonderful place, and someday I’ll take you both there.” Helena said with a smile, but Dawn’s eyes widened with fright and her hair practically bristled with frustration.

“I don’t want to go! There are goblins in the forest! Goblins are scary!” She sobbed, and her mother sighed with a  
smile.

“Oh my darling, goblins are not scary. They are kind and honest, and the only reason people are so scared of them is because they look different than us.”

“They look scary!” Dawn retaliated with a shout, and Marianne felt the second her mother’s hands left her hair. Her heart stopped for that same second and Marianne sat completely still.

“If Samuel was a goblin, would you be afraid of him?” Their mother asked in a calm, even tone. The question caught them both off guard, but after a few seconds, Dawn shook her head hesitantly.  
“And why is that?” Her mother asked once again calmly.

“He is my friend.” Dawn said with a sob, and her mother nodded her head as her hands returned to Marianne’s hair.  
“Just because someone _looks_ scary, it does not mean that they _are_ scary. Samuel is your friend because you’ve gotten to know him and ended up liking him.”

“So… you can like a goblin too?” Marianne asked hesitantly, and her mother’s fingers caressed her scalp through her hair.  
“Never judge a person based on their looks, judge them based on their actions.”  
Helena said affirmatively, and Marianne thought she understood.

“I’ll try.” Marianne said, and her mother chuckled behind her.  
“That’s all I’m asking you to do my love.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

  * __Present time__



_*Relax, relax, relax - you have to relax! Breathe in, breathe out… don’t let them get to you!*_

Marianne was pacing the floor of her sleeping chamber, her wings flared out in agitation as he skin crawled with anger. She was hyperventilating she knew, and as her ears rung and her heart thrummed, Marianne tried every technique she could remember to get herself to calm. Down.

They had turned on her once again, and while ruling out her opinion and talking down to her was normal for her, THIS? _This_ had been the worst case of disobedience and belittling she’d ever had to suffer! So Roland claims to have been there? But where was HIS evidence?  
_*He’s a supposed eyewitness. All you’re being right now is a hysterical mad woman with no reason to distrust_ _your husband*_

She breathed in, breathed out, but she felt like her lungs got no air at all, and her vision was starting to blur.

She rushed out on her balcony in search of fresh air as she felt the walls of her room close in on her, and as soon as the evening breeze hit her she started to feel somewhat better. Prickles of goosebumps appeared all over her arms, and she gripped the edge of the balcony hard.  
She closed her eyes and tried to get her body to relax. She was shaking in frustration, and she knew she wouldn’t be of much use in this state, so she _needed_ to calm down.

“You got this, you got this… c’mon Marianne!” She chanted, and she felt her muscles relax if only slightly.  
_*We need to figure out what to do!*_

“You’re their queen, you - you have to protect them. Even if protecting them means protecting them from themselves!” She growled, and her stomach churned with stress.  
Something was wrong - the whole situation felt wrong, and it wouldn't get better by blaming the goblins. _Someone_ was killing her subjects, and they needed to find out who it was before they could strike again!

Even if it _did_ turn out to be goblins, blaming the Bog king could make a bad situation into a disaster! He swore he had not ordered the attacks, and he had _helped_ bring back her guards! He’d even spent his time looking for clues to what killed the elves, and yet they doubted him?

 _*Well… maybe you just want to believe him? You’ve been naive and starry-eyed before, perhaps you’re just_ _yearning for_ **_someone_ ** _in your life to be truthful?*_

She shook her head and gritted her teeth.  
“I _need_ to pick a side in this… people depend on me!” She opened her eyes and looked across the fields.  
The moon was starting to rise in the horizon, though only its eerie glow could be seen, as heavy clouds still covered the sky.  
Hadn’t it started raining yet?

_*Pick a side, pick a side.*_

“Screw this, I am _not_ getting any help _here_.”

With that, she hurried back inside her room as she started to tear off her dress. The indigo petals fell around her and the pearls scattered all over the floor, but she didn’t care, she just needed out of it - she needed to feel like herself.  
She ran to her closet to fetch her sparring outfit. She pulled on her dark leggings, threw her rose petal tunic over her head, strengthened the blackberry vines around her arms and lastly put on her brown boots made of mouse hide.  
The whole getup made her feel sure of herself, and if there was anything she needed right now, it was confidence.

She fastened the scabbard around her hip and fetched her sword from her bed. She didn’t keep it in the armory, as she didn’t want Roland to get his hands on it, and if she kept it in here she could accuse him of removing it.  
She slid her sword home into the scabbard, and then she sighed out a lungful of air she didn’t know she’d been holding in.

Grabbing a bag from her closet, Marianne set to fill it with bandages, some extra clothes, a vial of berry juice from her vanity, some smaller knives and lastly some dried pieces of fruit from her personal storage. It was often she didn’t make it down in time for dinner, and so she kept food available for her in her study.

She turned and walked out on her balcony to once again look to the sky. The clouds still hung heavy with rain all over, but Marianne could feel apprehension in them. Was this what the fields had wanted from her all along, to escape? Were they offering her a barrier between herself and Roland?

Roland.

He’d be here any minute to rub his victory in her face. To belittle her and to tell her that her efforts were useless.  
_Go back to kissing babies babe and signing documents, it’s all you’re good for at this point._

“Not anymore. I’m ready.” And with those words she crawled onto the railing of her balcony and leapt into the evening air.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“Secure the entrance way, and keep an eye on the lower levels! I haven’t seen clouds quite like these in a long time!”  
Griselda buzzed around the throne room with a concerned look permanently edged on her face, and all the while her goblins ran from one end of the castle to the other to check for cracks in the walls. Griselda just prayed that the place would hold.  
The old stump was truly just that; old. And if a storm was brewing up, they’d had to make sure no rain water could get in anywhere.  
Gods knew they couldn’t handle any more rot!

“Light up the fireplace! It’ll keep the throne room dry!” She commanded, and two slugs nodded at her before running over to fetch the flint and steel and get a fire started.

She’d made sure that everyone who couldn’t handle water was situated inside, and that those who could were prepared to go scavenging for supplies should they need them.  
They had food, they had clean water, they had blankets and bandages if anyone got hurt, and Griselda hoped

that it would all be enough.  
_*Let’s just hope this won’t bother Bog too much.*_

Heaven above knew her son needed the rest, and she would not let anyone disturb him. Not even Gaia herself with her storms and her floods. Griselda would make sure that nothing unexpected happened, and that they would ride it out safe and sound.

“FAIRY! FAIRY COMING THIS WAY!” A goblin shouted as another sounded the alarm.

“Oh, would you give me a break!” The old queen croaked as she ran towards the entranceway to the castle.  
True to their word, the goblins had spotted a purple figure closing in and Griselda narrowed her eyes to get a better look as she ran out of the entranceway skull.  
“Keep ready people, they’re coming in fast!” Griselda shouted, and the goblins around her flexed their claws and bared their teeth. Griselda herself stood back as two bigger goblins stepped forward to protect her, and she braced herself as the figure became clear.

The purple wings of the fairy flared out right before folding with a snap, and the invading creature then proceeded to plummet dangerously fast through the mouth of their entrance right above their heads.  
The goblins surrounding Griselda all gasped and snarled in surprise as they turned around, and Griselda had to steady herself with how fast she herself turned.

A heavy thud rang through the entrance hall as the fairy landed, and Griselda was surprised it wasn’t more than that. She’d expected the crazy thing to crash and make a ruckus, but no further noises could be heard.

Griselda pushed her way to the front of the goblins as fast as she could, and when she finally broke through she was greeted by the sight of a heaving female fairy standing with her wings flared.  
“What is the meaning of this?!” Griselda shouted as her goblins started to surround the fairy, but the young woman simply spread her wings further and squared her chin.

“I need to speak to the Bog king. It’s an emergency.” She said calmly, though her voice portrayed a certain amount of urgency and uncertainty. Griselda raised a brow at her and held up her right hand to stop her people from gaining further in on the young thing.

“And _who_ are you to make such a demand? Maybe he’s busy!” Griselda narrowed her eyes as she straightened her back, and though she had nothing on the fairy in height, her harsh demeanor outshined hers ten times over.  
Griselda crossed her arms over her chest as she walked towards the fairy, her eyes expectant but also hesitant, but before she could question her further, a voice spoke up from behind the fairy;

“She’s the _Queen_ o’ the Fair Fields.”

Everyone hushed as the Bog king himself came walking out of a passageway to the right, his mouth in a thin line but his posture a little less hunched than usual. Thang and Stuff came shuffling down behind him, and they both looked nervously at Griselda.  
Griselda threw up her hands in frustration as she shouted at them; “I told you to make sure he wasn’t disturbed! Why is he - wait, did you say, _queen_?”

She looked at the young fairy in front of her, her beady brown eyes giving her a once-over, and then she noticed how the wee thing was perhaps not so wee at all - and not as young as she’d first thought.  
She looked regal, holding herself with a strength that was rare for fairies, and the calm look in her eyes spoke of many years of practicing looking unbothered.

Her son rolled his eyes as he walked to stand between them, and Griselda thought she noticed the fairy queen’s wings quiver slightly in his presence. It also didn’t escape her how the queen seemed to relax, and how her eyes softened as she looked at him, and Griselda felt a big smile creep up on her face.  
_*Well, well, well, would you look at that!*_

Griselda gave a quick bow towards the fairy, her demeanor now completely turned around, and the queen seemed a bit taken aback by the look that Griselda then shot her.  
“My apologies your highness! One can’t be too careful these days you know! I’m Griselda, Bog’s _mother_ .”  
She gave a quick wink at her, and now the fairy did seem a bit uncomfortable, but she smiled anyway and nodded her head in return.

“I take it you’re the Conifer queen then?” The fairy asked as she looked between Griselda and her son, and Griselda’s face fell at that.  
“Eh, might've been once. Now I’m just Griselda if you don’t mind.” She tried to say as cheerfully as possible, but she knew the look in her eyes would give her away.  
It had been a long time since she’d had Conifer at her side, and not one day passed where she didn’t miss him.  
But she had her son, her people, and they had helped her through her grief more than once.

“Did ye fly through _that_ ?!” Bog said as worry crept over his features, and Griselda turned to look outside. The rain was coming down now in steady, fat drops, and she was surprised she hadn’t noticed the drumming sound of them hitting the forest floor before now.

“I didn’t! It was still dry outside when I left the Fairfield castle. Must’ve just started.” The fairy answered her son, and Griselda turned back in time to catch the look of relief that washed over her son’s features.  
Oh but this sure was interesting! But it wouldn’t do with all these people standing around to stare, she needed to clear the crowd.

“Alright everybody, give us some room! And get back to work, we’ve got a lot to do!” She shouted, and the gathered goblins looked between each other before they started to scatter.  
She then clasped her hands together as she looked at Bog with a glimmer in her eyes.  
“Well, seeing as this poor thing came flying like a bat out of hell, I’d say she’s got something important to tell you!  
Anything you want to confess before I hear it from her?”

“MUM! That’s not!” Her son clasped a hand over his eyes in embarrassment, but Griselda simply chuckled as she waved her hand at him.  
“Alright, alright - I get it! You don’t want me around to ruin the moment, I get the hint!” She walked past them both and couldn’t help but notice how the fairy queen was starting to grow red around the cheeks and ears.  
_*Hehe, I still got it!*_

“Now you two, behave! I don’t want you too distracted in case the storm does some serious damage and I need to come and fetch you!” She shot them both a stern look as she pointed between them, and then she gave them a quick, big smile and a wave before disappearing down the hallway to the left.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“Uuughhhh…”  
Marianne turned to look at the Bog king, and if the way he was now covering his face with both hands was anything to go by, she’d say that what had just transpired was exactly what she thought it was.  
_*His mother just set us up… that’s not what I expected.*_

“Okay. Um, that was…” She tried, but she found that words escaped her.

“Ye dinnae have to say anythin’... it’s jus’ wha’ she does.” He finally said as he removed his hands from his face and peeked at her, and Marianne agreed with herself that there really was nothing scary about him or his forest with the way he looked at her in apology.

Well, so far her visit to the Dark Forest had been… interesting.  
Breaching the Forbidden passage had been an adventure in itself, as her heart had picked up speed and she felt the cold grip of doubt trying to suffocate her, but she’d kept going despite her fears.  
The forest was dark and damp, but that was as much the cloud’s fault as it was the foliage, and Marianne chanted to herself to keep going over and over.

The castle had been an eerie silhouette in the distant fog, and when she got close and noticed the skull placed at the entrance, her apprehension had skyrocketed - who uses a _skull_ as an entrance? Not exactly the best first-hand impression to welcome people with!  
She’d expected a cold welcome, but she’d take cold and weary over belittling and mocking any day, and she did not regret coming here for even one second.  
The goblins looked scary and menacing, but so had Bog the first time she saw him, and he once again really didn’t live up to that image with how he was now rubbing his neck as he tried to stammer an apology.

“Ah hope yer not too, ehm, affronted by mah’ mother’s words… she can be rather-”

“I like your mother.” Marianne offered him a sympathetic smile, and whatever he’d planned to say next died on his tongue. He looked her over for a few seconds and then gave her a small nod of his head and a relieved smile of his own.

“Ah thought we agreed on three days?” He asked then, and Marianne suddenly remembered why she’d come here in the first place. She shifted on her feet as she wrung her hands together, and Bog straightened as his eyes grew very focused and analyzing.

“Yer Highness wha-”

“There are two sets of murderers out there.” She said as she looked him square in the eyes, and thus she noticed how his pupils narrowed and his lips parted in question.  
“The wounds on my guards and the wounds on the elves do not match up. The elves had been cut and sliced, but my guards had been chewed up!” She added, and Marianne’s pulse picked up as the goblin before he seemed to take in her words and turn them over in his head.

Would he believe her?

“Tha’ would certainly explain why _my_ goblins returned with bite marks and not stab wounds.” He said, and Marianne felt her breath escape her with relief. Okay so there certainly was something about that, she hadn’t been grasping at straws.  
“I know for certain that my husband is lying about the first incident at this point… but I couldn’t convince my council about it.”

The Bog king’s eyes grew hard, and his shoulder plates rattled slightly. He gripped his scepter tighter in his right hand, and Marianne was reminded of how Roland had called it a weapon.  
It was massive and looked heavy, and the head of it held an intricate pattern of what looked like wines with a large piece of amber woven into the middle.  
Marianne could still feel the power radiating from it, and she wondered if it held any magical qualities. She figured getting hit with it would deal serious damage even if it didn’t.

“Come. This is no place to talk.” The Bog king suddenly said, and Marianne looked out the entrance way into the rain that now peppered every leaf, stone, and twig. She wasn’t going anywhere soon, not that she was planning to anyway, and so she turned to follow the Bog king down the passageway that he’d emerged from just a few minutes before.

 

They didn’t walk for very long, and Marianne soon found herself in what looked like a large library. The walls held scrolls and books of all sizes, and her eyes grew wide at the potential of gaining new knowledge. She’d had to ask Bog later if it would be okay for her to read through some of the Dark Forest’s history at some point.

There was a large table in the middle much like in her own library, and a giant chair made of the skull of a weasel at the end of it. Marianne noted that it had been turned upside down so one could sit in the upper jaw, and while she found it a little macabre she also noticed that the eye sockets were perfect for sticking your wings through.  
Hm, that was clever - certainly better than angling them every which way to get comfortable.

Bog walked to take a seat in the skull as he gestured to the rows of chairs on each side of the large table.  
Marianne took the one on his right.

“So... two different killers then?” Bog asked as he leaned back in the chair, his scepter safely tugged at the side and ledged into the fangs to keep it from falling over.  
Marianne nodded her head and leaned in over the table while supporting herself with her elbows. “I think… I don’t think the first incident was caused by anyone from our kingdoms... I think it was caused by a beast. Something with large enough fangs to skewer my guards.”  
Bog nodded and motioned for her to keep going.

“The second attack was obviously done with weapons, most likely swords and axes, which means that the elves were attacked by someone with access to those particular items.” She looked a little apprehensive then, but she took in a deep breath to keep her courage, and then she continued;

“One of the elves had a knife, a hunting knife, and it.... it had been covered in goblin blood.” The king stirred then, and she noticed how several plates of his armor shifted and rattled, so she hurried on;  
“Could be nothing! Maybe they encountered a hostile goblin before being attacked, or maybe the blood was placed there deliberately! The fact that I had no way of proving anything was what made the council… disregard my claims.” She tried, but the king’s mood didn’t change, and suddenly those blue piercing eyes turned icy-cold as they looked into her own.

“A _hostile_ goblin eh?” He said with a sneer, and while her pulse picked up at that, she fought to keep calm and not lose her cool.

“Or maybe the elves attacked first! I can’t say for sure that they wouldn’t. Can you say that your goblin’s wouldn’t either?” She straightened up and placed her hand’s palms down on the table.  
He was staring her down now, but she was determined to not let it deter her, and so she raised a brow at him in a challenge.

“Mah goblin’s are on strict orders ta’ keep away from yer people. But Ah suppose Ah cannae.” He said the last bit in a mumble, but Marianne caught it all the same.  
She let herself calm down and sagged back into her own seat. “As I said; the blood could also have been placed there. To blame your goblins.”

  
His wings twitched slightly as he leaned forward in his chair, and then he looked off to the side with a somber look on his face.  
Marianne didn’t know if she was even remotely right about that one, but she felt it had been necessary to mention. The blood was simply too much of a coincidence to be there, and it fell too perfectly into Roland’s version of what was happening to not mean _something_.

She was about to say something else when his head turned back towards her; “Why do ye believe it was nah’ goblins tha’ killed yer people?” He said, and the question shocked her.  
She didn’t know what to say, but she figured she’d have to try;  
"Well…almost two decades without a single word from your kingdom, and then you’d do this? Why? It just doesn’t make any sense to me.”

“Well, maybe we’re plannin’ to take over yer kingdom?” His tone was serious and his eyes portrayed no sort of mockery.

She furrowed her brow at him and cocked her head. “ _Well_ , why not just attack all at once then? That’s much more efficient… unless of course, you were trying to save face and goad _us_ into declaring war first. That way you could use that as an excuse to -”

Her eyes widened as her brain clicked, and she stood violently from her chair. The Bog king rose with her, his features painted with confusion and surprise.

“Wha’? Wha’ is it?!” He looked around them as if scanning for danger, but her mind was doing flip-flops and throwing her for several loops, and it took her quite a while before she finally stammered; “As an excuse to...to! FUCK!”

She ran out of the library, and though she could faintly hear the rustling of chairs behind her, she had no time to wait for the king to catch up to her.  
_*Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!*_

She passed several goblins on her way, and they all threw themselves against the walls to let her pass through.  
She figured with how the Bog king had allowed her to stay in the castle they weren’t allowed to interfere with her, and Marianne was really grateful for that at this moment - she had no time to explain why she was running rampant down their tunnels after all.

When she reached the entranceway to the Dark Castle, the rain was coming down hard outside, and Marianne felt her heart pumping in her ears as thunder started to roar as well. Right, the storm.  
Well her mind was a storm right now, and she could feel her own winds pick up and trash her around in her subconsciousness, and she needed to figure out what to do - fast!

Over the years her _dear_ husband had made snarky remarks about the forest almost all the time. Calling it a waste of space and opportunities. Claimed that its inhabitants were nothing but mindless beasts and that the fields would be better off if they got rid of them.

The council had never listened though and even called him reckless, much to her own delight when he’dsuggested marching against the goblins.  
_It would make life easier! Imagine not having to_ **_fear_ ** _the forest! We could clear direct routes to our allies to the_ _north and east, make trading easier!_

Marianne had suggested making peace with the forest once again instead, but both plans had been shut down as the council wanted no contact of _any_ kind with the forest.  
They were a bunch of scared old men, but fear opens up for a whole lot of possibilities, and Marianne knew that Roland would be quick to grab at them if he could - and they certainly were scared right now.

“WOULD YE BLUDY TELL ME WHA’S GOIN’ ON?!”

She turned around as the Bog king came barreling down the passageway with several goblins behind him, and  
Marianne knew that she’d have to choose her words carefully if she didn’t want to start a panic, or er, an outburst of angry goblins running for the fields.

“I need to get back! I’ve made a terrible mistake!” She pleaded with him, but Marianne knew that even the Bog king couldn’t change the weather. Rightfully so he shot her a look of frustration and defeat, and then he swung a hand up to gesture to the outside world.

“Is’ rainin’ like hell! Wha’ is so important tha-”

Oh well, screw this!

“THEY WILL DECLARE WAR IF I’M NOT THERE!”


	11. Chapter 9 - Calm During the Storm

_Cheeks as red as a blooming rose,_

_Eyes of the prettiest brown!_

_She's the darling of my heart,_

_Stay till the sun goes down!_

  
Sunny sang as he jumped around the sleeping hall of the Elven village orphanage.   
The many children that had gathered around them all clapped and laughed as he danced to his heart content, and some even sang along as Dawn joined him at the chorus;

 _  
_ _Shady Grove my little love,_

_Shady Grove my darling._

_Shady Grove my little love,_

_I'm going back to Harlan._  


She danced in circles around Sunny himself and her pink wings cast beautiful hues all over the floor as the thunder boomed outside.   
The hall itself was lit up by bulbs of fireflies on the walls, and it had an overall cozy feeling as music filled the room and the children laughed and sang along. At the back of the room, a group of caretakers was tapping their feet to the rhythm as they kept an eye on the spectacle,   
and Dawn was delighted to see the smiles on their faces even as the world was a mess outside. She would take a moment like this over anything to forget the current predicament they found themselves in, and she didn’t just mean the weather.  
Several of the smaller girls jumped from their respective seats on the floor to join Dawn, and soon they were all dancing in a chain around the singing Sunny.

_Wished I had a banjo string,_

_Made of golden twine._

_And every time I'd play on it,_

_Wish that girl was mine._   


Elves were known for being trusting and adventurous, and sometimes a few of them went missing. The fields were not _as_ dangerous as the forest, but it still held predators and the open spaces made it easy for birds of prey to swoop down and carry them off.  
Brownies had natural defense systems said in place, as they can change form or go invisible, but sometimes they too got unlucky.  
Elves were not as lucky, but they were smart and they knew when to run when danger did show itself.  
  
Dawn picked up a small elf boy that hesitantly stood to join the circle, and as she placed him down on her shoulders he clung to her hair as he laughed with glee. This had more of the boys get up from the floor to join the circle, but some were still hesitant to dance with the girls.  
Dawn took in a huge lungful of air before continuing the song;

_Shady Grove my little love,_

_Shady Grove my darling._

_Shady Grove my little love,_

_I'm going back to Harlan._   


_Peaches in the summertime,_

_Apples in the fall._

_If I can't have the one I love,_

_I won't have none at all.  
_ __  
  
Sunny approached a small elf girl at Dawn’s right with his hands outstretched, and she eagerly took them to start dancing in circles with him. Dawn giggled as she swung the boy on her shoulders down to start dancing with him too, and the circle around them broke as the small children each found a partner to dance with.  
  
The orphanage had not had a big influx of children this year, or last year for that matter, so it didn’t house as many as it could.   
This was, of course, a good thing, and with the adoption rate having gone up over the years, Dawn knew that it was only a matter of time before it once again stood empty.  
The pattering of little feet echoed the drumming of the rain outside, and at that point it felt like the rain was celebrating with them. That thought made Dawn smile and her heart leapt as everyone joined in on the chorus.

_Shady Grove my little love,_

_Shady Grove my darling._

_Shady Grove my little love,_

_I'm going back to Harlan!_   


The words rang out and filled the darkened building with warmth and life, and Dawn was glad that they’d chosen to seek cover in the orphanage when the storm hit.  
They’d been on their way over from Town hall after starting on the funeral arrangements, and to their surprise, it had gotten dark and cloudy out. Luckily no one else seemed to be out and about at that hour, and so they only needed to get themselves to safety.  
Alfred stood by one of the nurses, and Dawn was happy to see that the old man was smiling comfortably.  
  
The orphanage contained elves and brownies of different ages, and Dawn had done work with the caretakers before to get some of them adopted. She loved spending time with the children, and when she saw how they all huddled together in fear of the storm, she knew she had to do something to ease their frightened minds.  
  
Sunny had agreed right away, and once he started stomping his left foot while he clapped his hands together, Dawn knew exactly what song he’d chosen for the occasion.  
The children had been eager to join around to listen, even though they were still a little scared and some would recoil when thunder lit up the room.

As the notes died out and the room fell silent once more, Dawn plopped down in a nest of blankets and pillows as she dragged the small elf boy down next to her. He hurried up with a look of horror on his face when ten squealing elf girls and some brownies came running their way, and before Dawn could do much she was covered in their squirming forms as they all snuggled up to her.  
She then proceeded to feign terror as she squirmed; “No, NO! I’m too young to die! NOT LIKE THIS!” The elven girls all giggled loudly with delight as they pulled at her dress, arms, and hair while covering her with pillows, and Dawn could faintly hear Sunny making his way over.  
  
“Do you need assistance?” He quipped, and Dawn made a mock drowning sound as the children covered her head with blankets. She felt a hand grab hers and soon she was pulled from beneath the sea of children.  
She staggered forward as Sunny pulled with _way_ more power than she’d anticipated, and in the end, she landed on top of him on the floor.  
  
Sunny simply huffed out a laugh as he was crushed beneath her, and Dawn felt her own laughter bubbling up from her stomach. It was a short-lived moment of freedom though as the young elven and brownie girls now proceeded to jump onto her back, and her arms eventually gave in.  
She plopped face first into Sunny’s chest as a pile of elves and brownies gathered on top of her, and Dawn really thought this was how she was meant to die.  
  
Luckily she could make out the footsteps of an approaching nurse, and soon the children were ushered off of her.  
“Behave now! No hurting the princess or the chief’s son!!” The nurse was a stout older lady, and Dawn could tell that she was respected among the children as they all hurried to scamper off to their beds and crawl under the covers - they were still laughing though.  
  
When she was finally free she rose up on her arms, still giggling, and looked at Sunny beneath her. His freckled nose was scrunched up in a grin, and as they both came down from their high, Dawn found that she really was in love with the elf beneath her.  
She smiled gently at him before kissing his nose, and then she got up as she offered a hand out to him.  
He took it with a smile, and then they were both back on their feet like nothing had happened.  
  
“Saw my life flashing before my eyes there for a second!” Sunny said dramatically, and Dawn rolled her eyes at him. The nurse gave them an apologetic look, but Dawn simply smiled at her as gently as she could.  
“As long as the children had fun, I would happily lay down my life for them!” She beamed.  
  
The nurse chuckled a bit at that and nodded her head in thanks.  
“Thank you, your highness, I am sure the children enjoyed your company greatly!” Dawn smiled at her before looking outside through one of the windows. It was difficult to not feel a little down as the weather crashed through Elven village, and Dawn hoped Marianne had made it home safely before the storm hit.  
She felt a tug on her skirt, and as she looked down she saw the small boy she had danced with earlier clinging to her with a thumb in his mouth. She pet his brown locks and he smiled up at her as he let go of his thumb.  
“Will you sing another song?” He asked timidly, but before Dawn could answer the nurse spoke up beside her;  
  
“Oh no Jonathan, it’s way too late now! Off to bed, you go.” She said in a motherly tone, and the small elf boy’s face fell as he stuck his thumb back into his mouth.  
Dawn bend down by the knees to match his height and stuck a hand out to ruffle it through his hair.  
“If you go to bed now I’ll sing you a song first thing in the morning, okay?” She said with a smile, and the boy lit up like a glow bug in summer before nodding decisively at her.  
She then watched him run back towards his bed, and Dawn couldn’t help but giggle as he clumsily climbed into it.  
  
“Oh your highness, you really don’t have to!” The nurse worried at her, but Dawn simply shook her head in defiance.  
“Nonsense! I will be glad to. Besides, I don’t think we’re going anywhere tonight.”  
As if to emphasize her point, lightning struck and thunder rolled outside the building, and the nurse looked around the room before sighing.  
  
“Well, let me show you to your rooms then! You will be sleeping in the same rooms as the caretakers.” She said matter of factly, and Dawn watched as the rest of the nurses broke up from the back and started to tuck in the children.  
Alfred moved towards them as Sunny waved him over, and the nurse turned to regard them all.  
“Follow me!”  
  
  
They followed the nurse into a corridor that held several rooms on each side, and after some swift instructions, Dawn was situated in a room by herself while Sunny and his father slept at the other side of the hall.  
The room wasn’t very big as it turned out and contained two single beds at each wall, a nightstand for each bed, a dresser and a vanity.  
The washrooms were located down the hall, and there were one for males and one for females. Dawn had been told that breakfast would be ready at eight am, but that they could bring her some food if she wished to dine in privacy.  
She’d insisted to dine with the rest of them, and with that, they’d bid her goodnight.  
  
As she laid down on the wooden bed padded with pidgeon down and a comforter made of moss, her mind quickly drifted to Marianne again.  
She’d been in such a hurry, and Dawn hoped that she’d managed to confirm whatever suspicions it was that had gotten her so on edge.  
Seeing as she needed to inspect the corpses of her childhood friends had Dawn imagine that it hadn’t done well for big sister’s nerves though, and she hoped that Marianne was alright. She also wished that she could be there with her.  
  
Dawn wanted to be strong for her, to be strong _like_ her, but she had to admit that the whole thing was probably going to tear her down eventually. Seeing those elves this morning had made her very distressed, but then  
Marianne had been there to calm her down, and Dawn just wished she could solve all of her sister’s problems like she’d often done for her.  
She threw an arm over her eyes and groaned. This whole thing was such a mess.  
  
She heard a small knock on her door, and Dawn sat up in time to see Sunny swiftly jump into her room before gently closing the door behind him.  
“Sunny! What are you doing? The nurses will kill you if they find you in here!” She whispered, but Sunny simply walked over and jumped onto the bed opposite hers.  
“No way I’m leaving you alone after today.” He simply said as he drew the covers up around himself, and Dawn sighed in defeat.  
Well, she wasn’t truly scared that the nurses would kick him out, and it wasn’t like she didn’t appreciate the company. Especially when it was _his_ company.  
She also felt giddy, like they were breaking the rules and could get into serious trouble, and as she laid back down and pulled the covers up under her chin she giggled slightly.  
  
“What?” Sunny asked as he turned to face her, and she stuck out her tongue at him.  
“Rule-breaker.” She quipped, and Sunny brought up a hand to rest at his heart as if offended.  
“I am taking my job as the princess's protector _very_ seriously miss!”  
  
They both laughed at that, and as Dawn moved around to get comfortable she sighed out in aspiration.  
“I hope Marianne’s got someone to protect her.”  
  
Sunny made a face as he gestured with arms. “Have you _seen_ your sister? She does _not_ need any protection, trust me.” He laughed, but he stopped immediately when he saw how crestfallen Dawn looked.  
  
“I’m serious Sunny! Marianne is not always so strong… sometimes she needs someone to calm her down, and she’s all alone right now…” What she meant was that _she_ was not there to calm her down.  
She never doubted that her father would try, but she also knew that he’d have a fifty-fifty chance of saying the wrong thing and angering Marianne further.  
  
“You’re right, I’m sorry.” Sunny tried, and Dawn decided to have mercy on him, so she smiled gently. Dawn then proceeded to let her eyes wander over the flooring, and she found that sleeping probably wouldn’t come easy tonight.  
  
“You know. I’m sure Marianne knows that you’re thinking of her, and I _know_ that that gives her comfort.” He said, and as she looked at him, her heart melted at the sight of how sincere his eyes were in the darkness.  
“You guys are so close. It’s a wonder you’re not telepathically connected!” He laughed then, and Dawn couldn’t help a small laugh of her own as she wiped at her cheek to catch a small tear.  
  
“Thanks, Sunny. You always know what to say.”  
  
She noticed how he blushed and she could feel her wings buzz with happiness at the reaction. He’d always known, hadn’t he? He’d always been there for her, and she’d always accepted his help because she knew she could trust him.  
  
“I love you Sunny.” She said, and she meant every word.  
  
His eyes softened as a big smile spread over his face, and Dawn felt herself relax for the first time that day at the sight.  
“I love you too.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The fairy before him paced back and forth, flaring her nostrils while her wings twitched behind her. She was grabbing and pulling at her hair, fiddling with the hem of her tunic, resting her hands on the handle of her sword, and Bog was at a loss for what to do.  
They were both in the throne room at the moment, and blissfully they were alone. He’d caught her leg just in time before she set off to fly into the storm, ranting like a madman that she had to get back to her castle.  
  
There was a sliver of a moment when he first met her where he’d found her petite and mellow to look at, but it hadn’t taken him long before he would never use those words with Marianne as her fiery soul and large personality seemed too big for her own body.  
She would probably explode any minute now, and Bog felt her aggravation creeping under his scales and setting him on edge.

The tension in the room was high, and Bog felt he might lose his temper too. She’d explained, though rather briefly and chaotically, how her husband had viewed his forest over the years, and how he was most likely going to use the current situation they found themselves in to declare war.  
Seemed a bit… far-fetched, but so far the queen of the Fairfield’s seemed like a reasonable and clever person, and perhaps he just didn’t want to believe her for the fear of a war actually breaking out.  
  
The fairies would not be so dumb, would they? He’d made sure that they were never bothered, that his goblin’s never crossed the borders or were seen, so as to keep the Fairfields calm. Gods knew he wanted nothing to do with them, and so far it had worked out fine.  
_*A’least until tha’_ **_idiot_ ** _decided ta’ play the hero!*_ _  
_ _  
_ Bog felt his wings twitch at the thought of the fairy king, and with the impression he’d gotten of him over two mere days, perhaps the queen was right in her speculations? He certainly seemed the fool to play such a dangerous game, and Bog wondered if the Fairfield army was bigger than Bog had first thought?  
_*Mah goblin’s can fight, but can those fairies?*_ _  
_ _  
_ He looked at the fairy queen once more, and he could tell that _she_ certainly had a fight in her. From what he’d gathered of their interactions, she seemed to have a spirit of pure strength and finesse that surely no one in her damned kingdom possessed even an ounce of, especially not that husband of hers.  
But then Bog couldn’t understand why she hadn’t been able to convince her own council that there was something fishy going on!  
She was their queen, was she not? Either her council was really brave to contradict her, or that fool of a king of hers had them ensnared. If the queen had been truthful, Roland had been abusing his power left and right to ensure that Bog and his people would not go easy in this conflict.  
But Bog was a king too, one _born_ into the task, and he would make sure that that blonde-haired lunatic got exactly the kind of war that he wanted if push came to shove.  
  
It made his blood boil to think that _king_ Roland would get to decide all of their fates, and so he knew he needed to help the queen any way he could. His heart skipped a beat at the thought of them joining forces, and perhaps that was not such a stupid idea? He also found that despite his efforts of never getting close to the fairy kingdom, he wouldn’t mind getting close to _this_ particular fairy. _  
_ _*Yer a downright fool.*_ _  
_ _  
_ Maybe, but he knew they were both on the same side, so they might as well help each other. Well, first he needed her to calm down.  
  
“Yer goin’ to blo’ a fuse if ye don’t calm down!” He shouted at her, and he almost stumbled back at the glare she shot at him.  
_*Feisty wee thing*_ _  
_ _  
_ “CALM DOWN?! SORRY, BUT I CAN’T SEEM TO DO THAT RIGHT NOW!” She panicked as she paced back and forth, and her wings beat wildly behind her. Suddenly she snapped her head back at him, and as she threw up her hands in silent desperation towards him, gesturing wildly to his form as it leaned against the wall, Bog felt himself shrink under her gaze in confusion.  
“HOW ARE _YOU_ BEING SO RELAXED?!” Oookay she was hyperventilating. Bog grimaced, not quite sure what to do about this whole thing, and for once he wished he hadn’t ordered his mother to leave them alone while they settled things.  
  
“Ye’r being foolish!” He tried, oh but _that_ was certainly the wrong thing to say as she stormed over to him, her finger pointing directly at him, and Bog gripped his scepter tighter as a result.  
“ _I’m_ being foolish?! YOU have no idea! Almost two decades of peace, and now Roland is going to RUIN everything! PEOPLE ARE GOING TO DIE! PEOPLE HAVE DIED!!”  
He straightened himself back up. Okay, talking like civilized people wasn’t going to calm her down, maybe something else would.

“Aye, then what do ye intend to do?! YOU CANNAE GO ANYWHERE REIT NAOW!” Bog scowled down his elongated nose as his shoulder plates flared and his mouth sneered.  
He didn’t even try to calm his brogue, and if the grip on his scepter got any tighter, his knuckles would probably go translucent from how whitened out they would become.

“I kno’ ye want ta’ help, but ye cannae go into tha’ storm out there!”

“I!... I...” She looked at him. Her shoulders were moving up and down as her breathing raced, and her eyes shone with hurt and betrayal. Bog wanted to say something, but then she bowed her head and her brown locks obscured her eyes as she continued;  
“I don’t _want_ to help. They’re _my_ people Bog, it is my duty to _fix_ this.” She said with a sigh, and Bog thought all air left her body at that moment as her arms fell to her side and her wings fell to drag down her back.  
  
“A war cannae be fought by one army alone.” He said as he tried to catch her eyes. She straightened slightly to lift her head again, and as he did find his prize he continued;  
“Ah made ye a promise. Ah will’na fight yer people.”

She tried to smile, but he could tell it was battle she didn’t quite have the strength to fight right now, so it came out as a crooked, restrained line on her face.  
“They will march into the forest, and they will _kill_ everyone in their path. You’ll _have_ to protect yourselves.” She breathed out, her eyes pleading with his to understand what she meant, but Bog gave her a stern look in return.  
  
“Yer their queen. Tell them nah to?”  
Her eyes fell again as soon as the words were out of his mouth, and Bog was surprised to hear her groan in response.  
“You’d think it was that easy, right? If the council gives Roland the go-ahead to attack, it doesn’t matter what say.”  
His eyes widened at that. She was their monarch, and yet they -  
“Why?” He said incredulously.

“Because they trust him more than they trust me. Roland comes from a long line of warlords, of knights that protect royalty, and they trust him to make the best decisions. While _I’m_ just…”

“Yer the _real_ royal blood? Yer their bludy queen! Tell them tha’ yer husband cannae be trusted, and tha’-”  
  
“I’m _female_ Bog. Which means I was born to be frail and dainty.” She straightened herself with a snap as she looked at him. Her wings spread once more, and their rich color cast a hue of darkness over her form.  
Oh, but she was _anything_ but frail and dainty.

“Yer pullin’ me leg, right?” He said as his face undoubtedly looked quite humorously with the way it was twisted in confusion.  
“I wish I was.” She said with a huff as she started pacing again, her movements not as angry as before but still buzzing with energy.  
“I thought biding my time and making myself physically stronger would convince them that I am just as capable of managing our army as Roland is, that I can be trusted to make decisions to solve this dispute, but they took his side again.”

What sort of a kingdom functioned by _out-ruling_ one of their _rulers?!_ And basing it on gender?  
Most female goblins were smaller in size, but they were _just_ as ferocious and capable of fighting as males were, and Bog couldn’t quite wrap his head around the information he’d just been given.

“Sorry ta say, but yer people are mad.”

“They’re really not… they’re just scared. And they think that Roland can save them.”

Her words were regretful, and Bog couldn’t help but wonder how long things had been like that.  
Queen Helena had been given full reign to visit other countries, or so his parents had told him, but Marianne was to always be confined to the fields, and as for as long as they could keep her there; her castle.

“Does yer court know yer here?”

It was a question that Bog hadn’t considered till now, and with the way her eyes widened and her form shrunk, he was confirmed in his suspicions.  
“Yer council is in ruin, yer people are scared, and yet ye run to the _monster_ fer guidance. Now isn’t tha’ _rich._ ” His voice portrayed sarcasm, but his heart performed loops at the thought. She really had come to him instead of them, hadn’t she?  
_She trusted_ _him_.

In all his years of life, no one had offered him that kind of trust, and he barely knew her! Mina had been a person close to his heart, but after the _incident,_ their relationship had shattered, and she’d never treated him the same way again. She was still gentle and kind with him, but there was a certain… cold air about her, and he knew that things between them would never be the same.  
  
He’d given up on ever finding someone to trust like that ever again, disregarding any suitor his mother brought forth, even when she’d been nagging him for a full month to _just accept one!_  
This wasn’t about loneliness, or getting an heir. He could easily pass on the throne to someone he thought worthy, blood or not. No, this was ultimately about trust, and Bog was terrified to find that he… he returned the queens notion.  
_He trusted her._

Her voice broke him out of his stupor, soft yet determined - “You’re one of the few people in my life that’s _not_ a monster. And that’s why-”  
He looked at her then to notice that she’d gotten _extremely_ close to him right now, in fact, she was standing _right_ in front of him, and Bog lifted his hands up on each side of her, careful not to touch her still flared out wings.  
“- I came _here._ Our kingdoms need change, and at this point, I’m almost certain that you and I are the only ones capable of making that happen.”

He swallowed as he looked down at her. No one had ever longed for anything to do with him. He had created a reputation for himself, one Roland had taken advantage of, and one he was sure Marianne had believed in at some point.  
Then why did he see such concern in her eyes? Why did he spot a sliver of desperation? She was clearly asking for his help, she was - she was asking for an alliance.  
Something her king would **not** approve of.

“Aye, ah’m listening.” - he must be crazy, but she had come _here_ after all. She had fled her home in favor of his in a time of crisis, and she looked so… regal right now. Her pose was one of determination, her eyes soft yet strong, and Bog thought that this was the true queen she had hidden inside of her.  
The queen they had tried to quell, to keep at bay, and Bog would be damned if he didn’t give her the chance to unleash herself.

“I need Roland denounced. I have some people prepared to see that happen, but we’re not quite sure how to  _make_ it happen. I thought the difference between the wounds would do the trick, that they would draw attention to the fact that the two murders had nothing to do with one another.”

Bog couldn’t help but chuckle as he looked her over, and she narrowed her eyes at him in disbelief. Before she could start shouting at him though he held up his hands in peace.  
The queen of the Fairfields: all ready for battle and plotting to overthrow her king. And she was standing in _his_ castle while doing so.  
_*yer out of yer reach - well, let’s try no’ to drown then shall we.*_  
  
“Why no’ just divorce him?” He tried.

She shook her head as she took a few steps back, and Bog immediately felt the loss of her warmth.

“My marriage is a political one. I can’t risk Roland’s home cutting ties with us.” She said matter of factly, and while Bog thought the predicament odd, he supposed it was just another fairy conundrum that he didn’t understand.

“No, we need to expose him as the fraud he is. We need to prove that he’s lying about this whole thing! We need to prove that he’d stoop so low as to _use_ these incidents to start a war.”

“An’ that he’d falsely accuse _mah_ people to get permission.” Bog nodded, and the queen looked at him with relief.

The air around them seemed settled in a way, and the storm above them crackled over the sky as thunder and lightning ravaged the forest. The sound of rain drummed all around them, but Bog did not hear any of it.  
He found that he simply couldn’t seem to care as he looked into those brown, golden eyes. Yes, he did trust her. He respected her, and she was so different to anyone he’d ever met before.  
_*That’s what ye like, don’t ye?*_

She was smiling he noticed, and wasn’t that the first time since she got here that she had smiled a _real_ smile? He knew he was a fool to say it, but he simply couldn’t hold himself back as he looked at her;  
“Ye did it.” He said gently, and she raised a brow at him.  
“What?”  
  
“Ye calmed down.”

She laughed then. It wasn’t loud or boisterous, but a mellow, wee sound and Bog chuckled with her as she looked around them. She seemed to take in his throne room with new eyes, and Bog noticed how they twinkled with a new light.  
Her line of sight followed the walls, the lanterns, the fireplace and all the way up to his skylight. Her eyes glimmered with fascination all the way, and Bog felt his heart skip a beat.

“I did. Didn’t I?” She said gently. “No, but you’re right… there’s nothing I can do right now… I better just stay put till the storm clears. They won’t march out in weather like this anyway.” She huffed out a sigh and her features seemed to relax. Good, now she was at least seeing some sense.  
  
She looked at his throne then, her eyes narrowing as she walked towards it. “What is it with you and skulls?” She was teasing him, he could tell, but before he could make a snarky remark back at her, she sat down in it, and Bog felt all sort of words leave him.  
She looked… wow.  
  
She was sitting in his seat, in his throne, and she looked as natural there as he himself did. Like it was one of the places she’d always fit, and Bog felt his wings vibrate with a certain type of _tension_ .  
But all of a sudden the situation seemed to finally catch up to her as she took in his expression, and she bolted from the throne in a flash of limbs and purple wings.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“Sorry! Sorry, I didn’t mean to do that!”

Marianne felt her heartbeat race and she was sure that Bog was deeply offended at her sudden display. She’d sat down in _his_ throne! The throne of the _king of the Dark Forest!_  
She’d merely been fascinated at the texture of it, wondering if it would be comfortable to rest in, and so her curiosity had gotten the better of her.

She knew that a throne was a sacred object. That was one of the reason’s Roland had never gotten away with sitting in hers. It was bound by blood to the ruler of its kingdom, and it was a crime to sit down in it - especially without permission.  
Oh, but she’d slipped up! She didn’t even know what had brought forth her recklessness! At some point she’d just felt so… at ease? So at home, and for a second she forgot that she wasn’t really _at_ _home_ , and with this, she also forgot that her status here didn’t mean anything in comparison to Bogs.  
  
If she _had_ slighted him in the slightest, he didn’t seem to care though, and Marianne felt nervous as he didn’t react. He was just standing there, why wasn’t he reacting!? And what was with that look!?  
Her skin prickled with goosebumps as she focused in on his eyes - They didn’t hold anger, they held… awe? She stopped her nervous fiddling to stand completely still as she stared into his eyes.

What… what was this?  
Neither of them was moving, but Marianne was _buzzing!_ Those icy blue orbs felt like they were piercing her soul! Rendering her bare as they stripped her off all her walls, and she was sure that Bog could hear the beating of her heart from where she stood.  
A thought crept into the back of her mind, and Marianne was scandalized that it’d come from herself.  
_*Look at the way he’s staring at you!*_ _  
_ _Those eyes are to die for - don’t you agree dear sister?_

Nonono, don’t do that! I know you want to, but don’t! Do NOT stoop to Roland’s level, even if… Oh, but she wanted to, and Marianne almost lost her breath at how _okay_ she was with it being with him.  
_*Well, you did admit him to be handsome before, and he still is.*_ _  
_ But this was more than just the physical attraction - after all, she was far beyond feeling scandalized that her body wanted another man after what Roland had done to her.  
  
Bog was… kind. He was just and he listened to her. He treated her as an equal, and the Gods could call her desperate and too eager for all she cared, for that was _exactly_ what she yearned for.

She felt her body move before she ordered it to, and they both took several steps towards each other before they stopped at a hair’s breadth away. The room was tense as she leaned towards him, and her breath caught as he leaned in too, and Marianne found that she couldn’t give less of a damn about decency.

She wanted this, she needed this. She _needed_ to connect to someone, to _feel_ equal to someone, and to have some sort of control over what happened in her life. And if wanting the Bog king like this was what she needed, then screw formalities.

But then the spell broke as quickly as it had bound them, for the Bog king spoke up the second before their lips touched, his voice strained and gravely, and she thought she caught the split second his eyes flashed with terror.  
“Ah’ll… show ye to yer room...”  
Had she read him wrong? He’d leaned in the same time as her, and he hadn’t seemed to hesitate?  
  
Before Marianne could respond he swiftly turned around, and she had to catch herself from falling over.  
“Excuse me?” She said as she straightened herself back up, and he stopped dead in his tracks as the words left her lips.  
She could feel her ears start to ring. She was dazed, confused and...hurt. Hurt? No. No more feeling hurt, no more delving into silence just to keep things from falling apart, what the hell was that?!

She walked over to him, and as he turned around she hardened her stare before catching his eyes. There was hurt in them. Their blue color seemed melancholic all of a sudden, and Marianne immediately softened her expression.  
“What’s wrong?”  
  
She felt uneasy all of a sudden. Had she done something wrong? Had the throne ordeal thrown some sort of bad air between them, was that why? No, it couldn’t be that, he hadn’t scolded her or removed her from it, so what then? What had him so on edge right now, and what had him stop when she so willingly had - and hadn’t he seemed to want it too?  
“Bog, talk to me -”

“Dorn’t...” He gritted his teeth as he sucked in a breath, and Marianne thought he sounded wounded. She narrowed her eyes as she shook her head, the meaning not getting through to her, and she wished he would just tell her!

“Yer Highness, please. Le’s just retire fer the night.” His eyes were pleading, begging her for mercy, but Marianne was so tired of always being run around like this. The hair on her arms bristled as he turned back around to walk towards the largest of the throne room entrances, and Marianne sucked in a breath before muttering;  
“Did you want to kiss me?“  
  
His shoulder plates flared as he once again abruptly stopped, but this time he did not turn around when she took three steps forward to stand behind him.  
“You leaned in same as me, did you _want._ To kiss me?” She said it louder this time, but still only loud enough for him to hear. Not that she needed to, they were alone after all.  
Her wings were quivering with the exertion of being flared open for so long, but Marianne didn’t dare fold them. She didn’t dare move a muscle, and she kept her mouth in a thin line and her eyes in a hard stare as they focused on the back of his head.

“I hold no love for him, no _desire_ for him, I thought that was obviou-”

“Tha’s nah…”

His wings rattled and Marianne thought she saw his shoulder hunch as he gripped his scepter in both hands. She wanted to comfort him, but she also didn’t know if touching him was the best idea right now.  
“Then what-”

He turned at that second, and his eyes were _dark_ then.  
“Tha’s nah wha’ matters mah _Queen._ A monster like me is too much of a scandal tah lie with - _dorn’t ya agree?_ ”  
Her eyes widened as she stepped back, his looming form towering above her as he straightened up.  
“An’ imagine wha’ yer _king_ woud’ dae if he _knew_.”

He was looking extremely fierce then. The shadows from the walls perfectly encased his face, and his eyes lit up like the lightning outside, but between all the fierceness, his eyes betrayed him. She saw regret, she saw disbelief but she also saw hope - he _wanted_ her.  
A dizzy feeling shot into her stomach and pooled between her legs. Her head swam, and Marianne thought she’d not be able to control herself.  
He was right though. Roland would use it against them if they… even _just_ kissing him would jeopardize their entire mission, and Marianne sucked in a calming breath before speaking again;  
“I already said; you’re not a monster. But… you’re right.”

Bog shifted his scepter to his right hand and let his other hand fall at his side, the shadows still obscuring his face. She heard him sigh in both relief and anguish, and Marianne thought she needed to break the tension before they both died of nerves.  
“About the _last_ part, Bog. Roland would use it against us.” She reassured him, but he seemed taken aback.

“Aye… wait, what? Ye didn’t -”

“I know.. we’ve only just met, and everything’s all...weird! But I really wouldn’t mind.” Oh boy, but this was awkward. Well, they were both consenting adults, and she liked him. She knew people who’d done it for less, and if she hadn’t been queen, she’d probably not cared.

  
She folded her wings then and she sighed in relief as the strain in them died down. Okay, keep calm, act casual! She rolled her shoulders as she looked towards him.  
Bog still hadn’t responded, and quite frankly she wasn’t sure if he was going to. He was standing frozen like a rock, and Marianne had to admit his current facial expression was quite.. endearing.  
Alright, time to save him.  
  
“You were going to show me to my room, were you not?” The underlying message caught up to them at the same time, and Marianne felt her ears go hot. Great, you made it worse.  
_*Salvage it, quick!*_

“And then you’ll, ehm, you’ll go to _your_ room!” Don’t lose your cool now! Be confident, you’re not some flustered little princess anymore!  
  
It snapped him out of it though, and Marianne was pleased to see him shake the shock off while donning a rather awestruck expression. She also noticed how his face reddened and the leaves on his head ruffled slightly, and  
Marianne felt incredibly flattered at that moment. He’d expected her to not be interested? Oh but _that_ she could work with - later of course, and something told her she’d have to be patient.  
“Reit, eh… this, this way!”

  
He fumbled to give her room to pass in front of him as he swung out an arm in the general direction of the entrance way. With that she allowed him to walk her through the many passageways of the Dark castle to spend her first night of sleep out of her own bedchambers since becoming queen.


	12. Chapter 10 - Shadow Play

The horn that had announced his wife’s return had blared over half an hour ago, and Roland knew he had to act fast before Marianne made it to the council room. Conrad and Hector were still muttering between themselves after he’d   
announced that the elves found this morning most likely died at the hands of the same goblin’s who attacked him and his men.  
He’d made a great deal out of emphasizing how at least five goblins fled the scene when he himself had been attacked, probably to congregate before the next attack, and that his attackers, therefore, could still be out there.  
  
_We should have followed them and struck them down where they stood! But, alas, they were too quick.. and our_ _wounds too great!_

That had earned him a few sympathetic nods his way, and Roland had done his best to seem grateful.  
He rose from his chair once more, and all the eyes of the room went towards him.  
“If we do not attack now, these _fiends_ could strike once more! I say we rally the troops, and that we storm the Dark Forest to smoke them out of hiding!”  
He slammed his fist into the wooden surface in front of his chair, and Conrad and Hector shared a look that Roland knew well.  
  
“My king, you know we would never doubt you.” They started, and Roland had to fight _very_ hard so as to not roll his eyes.  
_*If you’re so damn loyal, then give me what I want!*_ _  
_ Instead of saying that though he simply motioned for them to go on.  
  
“But the Bog king insisted that none of _his_ goblin’s had attacked on _his_ command. Don’t you think it’d be wiser to wait before storming his forest? To give the Bog king a chance to prove that he has no hand in this?” Hector said as Conrad nodded enthusiastically at his side.  
Oh, but those two were such sticklers for democracy and _doing things right_.  
  
“Sure, sure. Let’s wait till they kill someone else. Let’s wait while the _Bog king_ plays us like puppets!” He sneered as his wings quivered, and the room filled with fear as they all contemplated his words.  
_*Alright, you can do this, play them like the instruments they are!*_ _  
__  
_ “Don’t you _see_? This is a power play! He renders us scared and confused because that way we won’t be ready for when the _real_ battle begins! Why, while we’re out there playing detectives and solving murder cases, he’s rallying his goblin’s _right now!_ ”  
He flared out his arms for dramatic effect, and every man in the room, old and young, gasped at the thought of being invaded.  
  
“My king, you… can’t know that!” Conrad’s voice was shaking. The old man had always been easy to persuade, and Roland knew all he had to do was calm him down now and assure them that he only wanted what was best for the kingdom. Then they’d all listen to reason.  
  
“My father couldn’t have known that the Sirens of the Southern seas were planning to attack the Southern kingdom. He couldn’t have known, and yet he felt it in his guts! He saw the signs and was able to save our allies from total annihilation!”  
Some of the older council members nodded in agreement as Roland went on;  
“ _I_ am my father’s son! And _I_ now face a similar situation! And _I_ say we-”  
  
At that moment the doors burst open as his dreaded queen entered with a look on her face that would’ve sent most people running for the hills.  
She’d been on her own for a couple of hours, and she’d no doubt uncovered something that would not bode well for him - he could see it in her eyes.  
Roland swallowed and knew he had to act fast now, otherwise, things might not turn out in his favor.  
  
*  
  
She’d had the nerves to disprove most of his claims, but Roland still had the benefit of the doubt, as his councilmen once again faced up to the task of standing at _his_ side. Neither of them had enough convincing evidence to get their respective ways, and while Roland felt relieved that Marianne hadn’t won, he was still bitter about his own defeat.  
  
He’d need to be careful now though, as his wife was on to him. _  
__*All right, let’s play our trump card then.*_  
  
Conrad and Hector moved to stand from their chairs as the rest of the council walked down their respective tribunes, and Roland ran down his own elevated chair to catch the two men as they headed for the exit.  
They bowed their heads in respect, and Roland bowed back.  
  
“I cannot speak for my wife’s behavior. I simply don’t know why she’d doubt me. I mean, she’s been a bit… down lately, but I didn’t think the matter of her fertility would manifest into anger like this.” He said, and he made sure to fill his voice with grief.  
  
Hector cocked his head at him, and Roland stepped closer to whisper at the two men; “This cannot leave this room; Marianne is heartbroken, but it seems that she’s barren, as she hasn’t been able to bear any children so far. I think she feels like she’s of no use anymore, and perhaps that’s why she’s suddenly so  
eager to play a part in this conflict? Maybe she feels like if she can prevent a war, she’d still have done _something_ for the kingdom.” He sighed and hung his head in hurt, and his eyes were dark and sorrowful when he lifted it once more.  
“We’ll have to be gentle with her, ease her into this. We must make it seem like she had a say in what happens next, and I _know_ you know what has to happen next.”  
  
His eyes were hard now, and the two men looked at each other before Conrad then moved to put a hand on Roland’s shoulder.  
“We understand, your highness. But for now, we think… it’s best to lay this to rest. Waging a war with no reason to is-”  
  
“You just admitted to the entire council that you believe the Bog king to be guilty. What more will it take for you to see that _we need to strike first!?”_ Roland snapped, and he had to fight himself so as to not jump the old man.  
  
Hector moved in front of the now flustered Conrad, and as he regarded his king, Roland could tell that he was keeping his voice from shaking with great effort; “Sir, the Bog king _could_ launch an attack if he sees the kingdom divided like this, to strike us in our weakness, but there is no _proof_ that he’s behind the previous attacks. Besides;  
the queen has a say in this too! If she deems a war unnecessary at this point, then it is our _duty_ to take it into consideration! Right now you should be happy you did not get charged with treason… that, well, it would be out of our hands, and not something the kingdom needs right now.”  
  
Damn politicians! What is the use of being a king if you have to get permission from someone, to lead your own damn army?!  
Roland heaved in a calming breath, exhaled slowly, and then he nodded his head at the two men. “Well, then there’s nothing else to say I suppose. _But._ If another attack happens, the blood shed will be on _your_ hands, same as it will be on hers.”  
  
And with that he turned around to leave two very flustered and panicked men behind him.  
  
*  
  
He couldn’t believe it! Those old fools were supposed to answer his every call, to support him, and most importantly; not question him!  
Their hesitation to let Marianne do whatever she wanted stemmed in the death of her mother, and how the royal blood was to be protected at all times to keep anything like that from happening again, but _him?_  
He was their _king_ , their _superior_ and that was _his_ army!  
  
Roland had been so sure that these incidents would finally tumble the discussion they’d had for years over in his favor. That’d he’d finally be allowed to get rid of that good-for-nothing forest! It would make things so much easier!  
The forest could be burned down, which would rid them of the predators in there, and of course _the goblins_. The kingdom could prosper, expand, and live in peace! No more being afraid, and well, he just loved the idea of finally slaughtering those cretins.  
  
The Southern kingdom had never had any trouble with the place, seeing as it was nowhere near their borders, and as a kid he therefore  never encountered goblins. But the second he laid his eyes on those slimy things, he knew they were going to be trouble.  
They refused to trade their resources, refused passage through the forest, refused any sort of contact actually, and Roland just knew they couldn’t be trusted!  
Besides, allies to the east had no interest in the Fairfields, as it would take _weeks_ to get around the Dark Forest, instead of the few days it would take to pass through it.  
And that _king._ Arrogant as hell, and he had the nerve to speak down to him? To belittle him in front of his guards, in front of Marianne?!  
  
Roland walked through the hallways of the Fairfield castle, his blood boiling as his mind raced. Oh yes, Marianne.  
She had seemed _too happy_ with the Bog king’s visit like the whole thing had been some big revolutionary step towards something! _First contact in years_.  
Yeah, they could step up and be _good neighbors_ when their names were being slandered, but before that? What, were they too good for the Fairfield’s or something?  
  
Their arrogance knew no bounds, and Roland would not have such monsters roaming so close to _his kingdom_ anymore. But for that to be a reality, he needed just one more incident. One more tip in the balance to send this whole thing hurdling to the ground, and grant him the last piece in his plan. His mind spun with ideas, why, the possibilities were endless of course!  
But. There was one creature so elusive that catching it would take cleverness, planning, and purpose. You don’t just stumble upon them, you round them up, bind them with magic, and only then can they be killed.  
Why, when a _brownie_ was found dead, it would create absolute chaos, and that was just what Roland needed.  
  
His strides were full of purpose now, oh yes, that would certainly do. But it had to be done right this time. No slip-ups for Marianne to exploit. He would make sure that it looked like a goblin attack this time, which also meant that the scene had to be an absolute _mess_.  
  
“Richard! Get your brothers over here. I have another job for you!”  
  
The triplets stood from their respective seats in the dining hall. The fairies in the seats around them stood to bow as Roland closed in, and he bowed back as he flashed his teeth in a charming smile.  
With the council meeting dragging on for so long, he’d obviously missed dinner. But he didn’t seem the only one. Dagda sat alone at his seat at the middle table, Dawn nowhere in sight, and Roland figured she must’ve stayed at the Elven village after Marianne left. She was spending a lot of time there lately, and Roland couldn’t help but think it was because of that small fry, Sunny.  
He smirked at the thought of Dagda finding out that his youngest was fornicating with an elf, and he figured he’ have to mention it to the old man when the time was right.  
_*Nothing like family drama to set things right, plus, it’ll be fun to watch!*_ _  
__  
_ Richard, Phillip, and Nicholas headed towards him and Richard nodded his way as they did so.  
“What do you need?” He said, and Roland smiled before turning and motioning for them to follow.  
  
“I need just one last thing for this whole escapade to finally go our way. Why boys, after this? We’ll be unstoppable.”  
  
The triplets smiled amongst each other, and Roland knew he could trust them to get the job done. They’d never failed him before, and they were all as loyal as they came. He just hoped they would be up for this as well - he didn’t want to have to force them. Not out of sentimentality, of course, he just didn’t feel like being told _no_ twice in the same day.  
  
He led them down to the armory, and as they grabbed swords and axes after his instructions, he went to one of the bigger storage compartments to fetch some very special gear.  
When he emerged once more, the three men were clad in their usual armor, swords at their sides and axes at their hips.  
Their eyes shone with understanding the second they spotted the mouse hide cloaks and covers.  
  
“I need you to go to the Elven village as soon as the rain clears enough for you to walk safely in it -” Roland said as he motioned to Nicholas and Richard. Phillip’s eyes saddened but Roland turned to him. “- I need you to stay here. Seems less suspicious if one of you stay here. Marianne is on to us I’m afraid, but if she sees you she’ll be less suspicious.”  
He then turned back to the other two;  
“Procure a brownie. Tell it that you found something at the northern border of the forest, take it there, knock it out, and kill it. And do it properly this time. Make it look like it was scratched and torn apart, do whatever it takes.”  
  
The two nodded as Roland went on;  
  
“Fetch some mud from the forest, smear the brownie in it. And take this -”  
He dumped a red pouch into Richard’s hand, and as Richard turned it over, a piece of amber fell into his palm.  
The brothers eyed the amber with great interest, and as Richard cocked an eyebrow at Roland, he continued; “It’s from the vault. An old gift from the Dark Forest. And now - it will be its downfall.”  
  
He smiled wickedly, his green eyes gleaming with purpose and the triplets straightened as they all nodded.  
“We’ll make sure to place it on the body. It’ll be such a nice gift from the Bog king - there’s no way they’ll think it’s not him anymore!” Nicholas chimed in as he lightly punched Richard’s shoulder.

Roland smoothed back his hair and handed over the cloaks as well as the covers to the two of them.  
“Move quickly, do not get spotted, and be back here as soon as you can. They won’t be sending out patrols in this weather, but make sure the body is laid out in plain sight for them to find when scouts eventually leave.”

  
Richard and Nicholas nodded in tandem as they rolled up the cloaks and covers to easily carry them in their arms. If they moved between the grass and under bushes, the rain wouldn’t be too much of a bother when it turned into a light drizzle, but flight would be out of the question in any case, and so the protection was needed.  
“Take Chipper when you’re ready, he’ll get you there faster. For tonight you can rest up and prepare, and if you have any questions, don’t be afraid to seek me out. Keep the gear hidden in your rooms, and be prepared to make your kingdom proud.”

Roland put a hand on their shoulders and patted them on the back as they moved towards the exit of the armory. Phillip moved to stand beside Roland as they both watched them go.  
“What do we do while the storm rages though?” Roland didn’t move to look at Phillip but kept his eyes on his two older brothers as they disappeared down the hallway.  
“We wait.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Roland felt his spirits had lifted as he walked down the corridor that led to his wife’s chamber. What would hopefully be the final step of his plan had been set in motion, and now he would like nothing more than to pay the rebellious little wench a visit.  
She’d just lost their fight, and what with how she’d stormed out the council room, Roland knew she would be in a perfect mood for pestering.  
  
The sun had set about two hours ago, and the moon was rising in the sky - though it was covered in the thick layer of clouds that were currently emptying themselves upon the fields.  
The rain had come as a blessing, as they would make sure that his soldiers could eventually work in the cover of the aftermath of it, _and_ it would keep Marianne locked in the castle and out of their way for now.  
  
So perfect, everything was so very perfect.  
  
Roland stopped in front of the oaken doors that led to Marianne’s sleeping chamber, and he enthusiastically knocked a little louder than necessary. If he was lucky, his queen had gone to bed early to calm her nerves, and he would be waking her up just now.  
He fixed his clothes, made sure that his hair curled just right and polished his teeth with his tongue before putting on his most charming smile.  
  
He waited. And he waited some more, and when he’d knocked two more times he furrowed his brow. Even if she was in the study next door she should have heard him. Was she ignoring him? Well, it wouldn’t have been the first time, but after her stunt in the council room, he _knew_ she wouldn’t miss out on a chance to argue with him.  
  
“Buttercup? Oh Marianne, darling! I’ve come to clear the air - surely you don’t want to go to bed all mad and bothered by what happened earlier?” He tried in a mocking tone, but no sound came from inside the room.  
  
“Oh c’mon now, don’t be like that! We’re both adults, we can handle this like adults.” He said as he smiled, his voice thick with belittling and triumph.  
But when no sound came, Roland became sure that something must be wrong. He didn’t much care for Marianne’s safety, but the silence was eerie, and very, _very_ out of place for her.  
She should be fuming, kicking things around and shouting at him. Her temper _always_ got the better of her, so why was she suddenly so silent?  
  
_*Screw this then, time to take action!*_ _  
_ _  
_ The right door slammed open with a loud thud as Roland kicked it, and as he went inside his eyes widened with horror. There was no fuming, no objects being thrown his way, no surprise attack to push him back out the door and slam it in his face.  
_She was gone._  
Her dress from earlier lay in shambles on the floor, the pearls that usually adorned it littered all around, and Roland felt his heart sink as he noticed how her vanity was empty of her favorite berry vials. There were some knives on the bed and some fruit by one of the nightstands, and Roland felt the gears in his head twist and click into place.  
_*She wouldn’t have… would she?*_  
  
Maybe she’d gone to the elf village to be with her sister? She said she’d wanted to get more evidence, perhaps she forgot something there, perhaps she thought that - no, that was stupid. She wouldn’t have brought knives, or food for that matter, to the elf village.  
Roland ground his teeth together as he tried to stay calm. There was only _one_ place where she could possible need either.  
  
He turned around and ran out the door back towards the throne room. He needed to think of something, and fast - what should he do? If she was with that monster she could disprove of his plans once again, seeing as the Bog king would be with her.  
_*You could still say he ordered the attack?*_ _  
_ _  
_ She would be _there_ , she would _know_ if they ordered an attack! Oh, this was a mess! He needed to get her back, but how?!  
He couldn’t rightfully just order a bunch of fairies out into the rain to follow… to follow their-  
  
Roland stopped dead in his tracks as his mind clicked. He looked back towards the room as he narrowed his eyes.  
No one had been in there, he would have heard of it if they had. If he could make it _look_ like Marianne was forcefully taken from the room, _kidnapped!_  
The brownie murder and the kidnapping of the queen - if his men were as quick as he’d ordered them to be, the two things would line up!  
He could have his army at the border of the forest by noon tomorrow, and by nightfall, the forest could be _his_ .  
He smiled as he walked back towards the room, and as he got there he fetched one of the knives from the bed and set to work.  
  
*  
  
“Come, quickly! There has been an attack, THE QUEEN IS MISSING!” Roland shouted as he ran down the halls towards the throne room.  
It had taken him half an hour to topple over furniture, edge scratches into the floor, rip up Marianne’s dress and essentially make a mess of the room.  
He was quite proud of his handiwork, and he was sure that _this_ would get the old men in the council going.

It was Dagda that came running first. The old king had been conveniently close to Roland’s own position, and as he got closer Roland noticed the wild look in his eyes.  
He was soon joined by some guards that all came running too, and Roland thought he spotted some servants out of the corner of his eyes creeping closer.  
He did his best to look scared, exhausted and panicked all at the same time, and it had the right effect as everyone present looked equally distraught the moment they laid eyes on him.  
  
“ROLAND! What is it, where’s Marianne?!” Dagda sputtered as he came to a halt in front of Roland. The old man’s eyes were wide with terror, and his body was shaking lightly. For his physique, Dagda had actually run quite fast, and Roland was impressed with the old guy for still standing straight.  
_*Panic loosen the joints!*_ _  
_ _  
_ “HER- HER ROOM! I went there, to - to talk to her. We had a fight earlier, and I- I wanted to apologize!” Roland began, and the onlookers grew in number as he went on.  
“There’s signs of a struggle! I - I think she was taken!” He heaved as he looked around him, and he noticed how a cluster of guards rushed towards Marianne’s sleeping chambers.  
  
Dagda looked lost. His expression was one of denial and utter terror, and he grabbed onto Roland’s shoulders as his entire body shook with panic.  
“What exactly did you see?!”  
  
Roland would have scolded him if he had been someone else. To touch your king without permission? This kingdom needed serious reprimandation! But, now was not the time.  
He grimaced as if in pain, and his voice shook as he answered the old man;  
“There’s claw marks all over! And her dress was torn! She fought back, that much is obvious, but they - they got her! The goblins got her!”  
  
At that exact moment, Hector and Conrad came running and Roland praised the Gods that the old fools always seemed to be together.  
_*Good, then I can get this over with right away!*_ _  
_ _  
_ He straightened as the two men approached, and Dagda stepped to the side to face them. “We need to send someone to the Dark Forest! They’ve taken her! My little girl!” He shouted at them.  
  
Conrad and Hector looked between Roland and Dagda, and Roland nodded as the words escaped the old man in a frantic plead.  
“It could only be them - there were claw marks and mud in the room! They kidnapped the queen because we offended them! I knew the Bog king couldn’t be trusted!” Roland said with pleading eyes, and Hector swallowed as he seemed to think the situation over.  
  
They could not let this one slip. No matter what they’d need a good amount of soldiers to go to the border to retrieve the queen, so letting him bring the entire army would only work in their favor. With the situation as it was, it would be foolish to deny him now!  
_*C’mon you old goat, you can’t sneak your way around this!*_  
  
Hector looked to Conrad who nodded with fervor, and the two turned their attention to Roland at the same time.  
“King Roland. Rally the troops. Tell them they will be marching for the Dark Forest as soon as the rain lets up. They will retrieve the queen, and if she has been harmed? You may declare war in the name of the Fairfields.”


	13. Chapter 11 - Wildfire

Marianne was pacing the floors of the throne room, her sword in hand as she swung it from side to side like a pendulum. She was restless, even after what had essentially been a good full eight hours of rest.  
She’d felt… giddy?  
Giddy and quite like a new person after her’s and Bog’s exchange last night, and while it had certainly been awkward, a lot of truths had been spoken and she felt like her life was finally turning around.  
The conversation had given her a feeling of control, and like she actually had a chance to win back her kingdom after these five long years of sulking in Roland’s shadow.  
She felt like she’d been given the opportunity to finally choose for herself, and the Gods be damned it had felt great!

The rain hadn’t let up from last night, and it was still coming down hard. Going out in rainy weather was never good, and if it could be avoided it was to be avoided at all cost. So staying put it was, and Marianne needed some sort of outlet from just waiting till the rain cleared. With how violently it was coming down right now, she also had to eventually come to terms with the fact that it might be a day or two before it did.  
  
With her nerves as shot as they were, she didn’t feel like eating. She’d eaten some pieces of dried fruit before going to bed last night, just to keep her energy up, but she found that her appetite was completely gone this morning.  
A quick spar was just what she needed, but she hadn’t felt it appropriate to ask any of the goblins to do so with her.  
She was a guest from the Fairfields, and given the sudden tension between the two kingdoms, asking a goblin to  _fight_ her might not be such a good idea. She also wanted to make a better impression on Bog’s people than the one she’d made last night.  
  
Besides; it was still somewhat early, so whoever was up at this hour was busy doing their jobs, and obviously didn’t have time to humor her and her jittery bones.    
  
Deciding that she couldn’t just stand still any longer, she opted to spar with herself - the air could be her opponent for all she cared, she just needed to tire herself out.  
Marianne started a drill a that she knew well. It worked to strengthen her upper body and particularly her wings, and Marianne flared them out as she deliberately let herself tumble from side to side to dodge her invisible enemy.  
It was all about balance while keeping your eyes on your weapon, and Marianne let her sword roll over her outstretched arm, bounced it off of her elbow as she spun, and sliced it through the air as she caught it.

She threw her sword high into the air, and then she proceeded to sprint from one end of the throne room, set off with her left foot as she collided with the wall, and somersaulted into the air behind her to catch it before it clanged to the ground.  
Proceeding that she flew off into the air, and she found that with no wind to hold her up, her wings were working double time to keep her airborne.  
_*I need to spar inside more often, this will work great to strengthen my wings!*_

The sword spun at the tip of her fingers, the blade going fast enough to create an illusion of a perfectly circular sphere to be in front of her. After practicing the dexterity of her fingers for a while, she let it go to quickly catch it with her other hand and spin around to slash at the air in front of her.  
Only, it collided with the metal of the Bog king’s spectre, and the sound reverberated throughout the room.  
  
She grit her teeth as the sound raced up her spine with a shrill peak, and Marianne felt how the collision rippled through the muscles in her arms to settle at her neck. But her wings didn’t falter for even one second, and she straightened herself to look into the eyes of Bog.  
  
Marianne was surprised to find that he was looking at her with a smug expression, but soon Marianne felt herself smirking back at him.  
“What?” She asked in a nonchalant tone as she raised a brow at him, and a shiver went up her spine when his voice came out as a deep rumble;  
“Ye fight well.”  
  
She then raised her chin at him, a look of pride riding over her features as she raised her sword to scrape against his scepter. The sound their weapons made set her teeth on edge once again, but she didn’t care. She also knew the gesture could be interpreted every which way, but after last night she did feel a bit frisky.  
  
“Spar with me?” She challenged, and the Bog king bared his teeth in a smirk. Oh, but she had him now - then perhaps it wouldn’t be too daring of her?  
_*Let’s see how he reacts.*_ _  
_ _  
_ _Lie down, lie down, love henry lee and stay with me this night!_ _  
_ _  
_ _You will have my candle and coal, my fire's burning bright,_ _  
_ _  
_ _My fire's burning bright!_ _  
_ _  
_ She retreated from where their weapon’s connected as the words flowed around her, and she couldn’t help but notice how Bog went from confused, to understanding within a split second.  
He rolled his eyes at her with a smirk, but there was humor there, and soon he aimed his scepter at her, the amber piece shining as if the situation lit it up.  
  
_I won't lie down, i can't lie down and stay all night with you!_ _  
_ _  
_ _There's a lady ten times fairer than you in barnards hall for me,_ _  
_ _  
_ _In barnards hall for me!_ _  
_ _  
_ She raised her sword in front of her as she lined it up to be an extension of her arm, and then she made a great point in aiming it at his heart. She made an effort to look affronted by his words, and then she lunged for him with as much speed as the still air allowed her.  
  
_Well live my lord. Lord henry she said._ _  
_ _  
_ _For an hour, two or three._ _  
_ _  
_ _And all the cards about my waist i freely give to thee,_ _  
_ _  
_ _I'd freely give to thee!_ _  
_ _  
_ He ducked to the side as her sword swung over his head, and she barely even grazed him! She felt a light tap at her angle as he tagged her with the opposite end of his scepter, and Marianne snarled at him as she spun around to bring her sword down at his back. He was once again quick to retaliate with a spin of his scepter, and  
Marianne once again hit the weapon instead of him.  
  
_Well all them cards about your waist will do no good for me!_

_Love don't you see my own cards flash, Come twinkling at my knee_

_Come twinkling at my knee!_ _  
_ _  
_ Laughter bubbled up from her stomach as he set to escape her, and as she followed behind him she noticed how his wings shone with a clearly iridescent light. How come she hadn’t noticed their colors like this before?   
She thought back to the night in the entrance hall of her castle, and how they shone with liquid silver from the moon, but she was delighted to find that they did indeed contain a full palette of the rainbow!  
The fireplace had been lit before she entered, and the light cascaded through his wings when lined up with it just right.  
She felt her heart skip a beat, and her words came out more passionate than before;  
  
_She took him by his long yellow hair,_

_She dragged him by his feet!_

_She threw him down a cold,_

_Dark well some fifty fathoms deep,_

_For fifty fathoms deep!_ _  
_ _  
_ He caught one of the lanterns by its vine and swung it around as he turned in a big circle to once again face her. As he let it go, the action caused it to pummel against her, and Marianne ducked just in time before it hit her in the stomach. The action caused her to lose altitude, and she bared her teeth as she flapped her wings hard to gain in on Bog.  
The damn king was simply chuckling at her, and it set her body on fire with frustration, but she also had to fight herself to not laugh back at him.  
  
_Lie down, lie down you pretty little bird,_

_Lie down along my knee!_

_No girl who would murder her own true love,_

_Would kill a little bird like me,_

_Would kill a little bird like me!_ _  
_ _  
_ They meet in the middle just as Bog brought his scepter down in a swift motion, and Marianne grabbed her sword with both her arms as she parried the attack right above her head. Sweat ran down her brow, and as Bog leaned in she could see how his skin seemed to shine with perspiration as well.  
Oh, but this was fun!  
  
_Oh, i wished i had my bending bow, my arrow in my string!_

_I'd shoot my dart right through your heart so you no longer sing,_

_So you no longer sing!_ _  
_ _  
_ The last note vibrated on her vocal chords as she broke their stance with a snap of her wings, and Bog tumbled backward in the air as she started to gain on him. She threw her sword from her left to her right hand, and as she bettered her grip on it she swung it out to tap the flat side against Bog’s foot.  
He beamed at her as he swung his scepter down to bat the sword away, but Marianne moved faster and moved beneath him.  
Before he could turn around she flew to his level and raised her sword so that it would hover perfectly at his throat.  
The atmosphere stilled around them as they both lowered themselves to the ground, and Marianne folded her wings gently as she kept him at her mercy, her sword tapping the side of his throat with the flat side once again.  
  
He smirked at her, his fangs showing just behind his lips, and Marianne felt her body tingling at the sight.  
  
_I wished you had your bending bow,_

_Your arrow in your string!_

_I'd fly on back to barnards hall,_

_You'd always hear me sing!_

_You'd always hear me sing._ _  
_ _  
_ “I think I might keep you.” She teased as the last notes dissipated from him, and he cocked an eyebrow as he looked at her with a bewildered expression, his mouth still open from singing.  
“Excuse me?” He said as Marianne lowered her sword and he lowered his scepter. She then blew back some hair from her eyes and made an effort to slowly blink at him through her lashes.  
“You fight well. I think I might keep you as a sparring partner.” She winked, and she was delighted to see the Bog king turn beet red at the gesture. _  
_ _  
_ She sheathed her sword as he flusteredly cleared his throat, and if they hadn’t come to their agreement last night, she would have kissed him right where he stood.  
Instead, she stuck out her left hand and eyed him expectantly. It had the effect she was hoping for, as he chuckled and shook his head in humor, and then he grasped her hand with his own and shook it.  
  
_Deal._ _  
_ _  
_ “I never got to ask you last night -” She started as she let go of his hand. “Did you manage to ask around? Have anyone gone missing or acted suspiciously?”  
Bog shook his head as he looked at her, and Marianne noticed that he was standing straighter - his posture was getting better, and she couldn’t help but wonder if she had anything to do with it.  
She had to keep herself from blushing at the thought.  
  
“Ah only managed to visit one tribe. They hadn’t noticed anythin’, neither had their scouts. Ah’ve sent out three groups of goblin’s to ask around at some of the other tribes, but tha’s all we can do for now.”  
  
Marianne nodded quickly. She was grateful that he was so willing to help. Well, clearing his name was obviously also on the list, but sending people out while the rain was coming down like this was quite a bold move.  
  
“Do goblins not mind the rain?” She asked, and he chuckled in response.  
  
“The amphibiotic ones does nah mind. The frogs, snails, and slugs? They thrive in this kind o’ weather. I woul’da gone mahself, but mah wings cannot handle the rain right now.” He said, obviously distraught that he couldn’t be out there with his scouts.  
Marianne flexed her own wings as she sighed; “Yeah. My wings can’t stand water. Besides from the water clinging to them, the rain could at worst tear holes in them if I went out there, and that’s not something I’d like to experience!”  
  
Tearing your wings was a traumatic experience, and while the damage done could be mended and healed, it was said to be an extremely painful process. Not to mention that the entire thing would take months, and Marianne didn’t fancy being earthbound for so long.  
She figured Bog was the same. His wings were obviously more dragonfly-like in structure, and very strong given how well he flew with the damages done to them already, but seeing as he was in _here_ and not out _there_ , she was pretty sure he didn’t like the thought of a broken or torn wing right now either.  
  
“So, do you usually fly out in weather like this?” Marianne added as she walked towards the large wooden table in front of the fireplace. The warmth coming from the fire was alluring on days like these, and she felt drawn to it.  
Bog walked over to join her, and Marianne had to sustain a giggle as he sat atop the table’s surface, his long lanky legs bending at the knees as they rested on the floor.  
He looked like a child at that moment, one his mother undoubtedly had to scold several times for sitting on the table like that, but it also looked quite natural for him. Her fight to suppress her giggles quickly turned to hiding the way her cheeks and ears grew hot as Bog cracked his neck and sighed in relief.  
“Ah try t’ avoid it, but sometimes duties come first, and ye have ta’ brace the weathers for it.”  
  
That was… rough. But she supposed it was only natural for a place like the forest. It wasn’t a secret that the predators of the fields had nothing on the ones from the forest. Even with the two kingdoms being in such close proximity to one another, the forest had owls, bats, badgers, ferrets - the list went on and on, and these creatures seldom braved into the fields to hunt. It was too open, and therefore too easy to get spotted.  
  
“I take it the weather’s not the only reason your wings look -”  
  
“Like what? _Do_ pray tell wha’ my wings look like.” He sneered, and Marianne wasn’t sure why he was suddenly reacting that way. His body seemed rigid all of a sudden, his shoulder plates flaring slightly, and his wings buzzed in irritation.  
He’d been so gentle and happy just a moment ago, why was he acting so offended now?  
With a huff, Marianne decided that she could play that game too, if he so desired, and squared her shoulders to brace herself.  
  
“Like you don’t necessarily take care to mend them.” She said decisively. She was just worried about him, surely he had no reason to be mad at her for worrying.  
He scoffed at her as he rolled his shoulders, his posture slouching slightly as his face grew grim. His eyes shot to focus directly on hers as he bared his teeth in irritation.  
  
“If mending yer wings is so important to ye, why no’ yer scars? Ah’m sure yer, _magical fairy cream_ , could take care of _those_ too.”  
  
Her shoulders heaved as her eyes widened, and Marianne felt her blood boiling at his remark.  
  
Roland had often told her that her _feminine viles_ were severely disrupted by the many, _distractions_ , on her otherwise prestige skin. Fairies were _fair and dainty_ , and even the soldiers and knights took care to smear their injuries in mending cream after a battle.  
A scarred fairy was essentially a hideous fairy, and so her choice to not mend hers was another thing that made her different.  
_*Another thing that makes me odd.*_ _  
_ _  
_ “I… choose to let my scars show. There’s a reason I don’t hide them.” The words had come easy before when her father and sister had questioned her, but with him, it felt awkward like they were some silly excuse to act all moody and rebellious. Not like it had been a decision she’d taken once she’d faced the fact that her kingdom would never take her wish to fight seriously.  
_*I’ll show them that I can be tough*_ _  
_ _  
_ “Well, _we_ dinnae have yer healin’ creams and blessed springs. We have to bear our scars, instead o’ erasin’ them like they nevar happened. Mah wings will mend on their own, and mah scars will fade with time.”  
His voice wasn’t as hard as before, but he still seemed uneasy sitting beside her where she stood. He wasn’t looking at her anymore, but instead his gaze followed the lines in the wood of the floor like they were suddenly the most interesting things he’d ever seen.  
  
Marianne turned to sit on the table like him instead of standing, and she thought she saw him jump slightly at the intrusion. Her shoulders slumped as she sighed in defeat, and while she still didn’t understand why he’d reacted this way, she supposed she had been the one in the wrong.  
After all, if the natural way of healing was all they had, they couldn’t help being covered in scars. And it sounded like scars were something to be proud of here.  
  
“Would you? Hide them I mean… if you had the chance?” She didn’t look at him. She simply sat completely still, waiting, and hoping that he’d understand in some way.  
  
“No.”  
  
It was a single syllable answer, but it rocked her world to the core, and Marianne looked at him then. She had no doubt that her eyes were filled with longing. Longing for an answer that would make meaning of everything she’d done the past three years to hone herself. Something that could make it all seem worth it, and something that could confirm her in her way of doing things.  
  
“Yer scars show who ye are. They’re nah something to be ashamed of. Having a scar does nah mean defeat - it means tha’ whatever battled ye braved, ye came out of it _alive._ ”  
  
Her heart jumped in her chest, and she swallowed slowly as she studied his face. It was still aimed towards the floor, and perhaps that was for the best - He didn’t seem like he was in a mindset capable of facing her right now.  
His claws tapped on the surface of the table as his right leg jittered up and down by the knee. It was obviously a touchy subject for him, and now she thought she understood why he’d reacted the way he did earlier.  
  
Clearing her throat proved more difficult than she had anticipated, but the sound nonetheless made his eyes look to her, but his head still didn’t move to turn.  
  
“Thank you.” She whispered as she found she had little nerve to do much else.  
  
Whatever words he’d expected, those were definitely not it though, and Marianne noticed how _he_ now swallowed nervously before looking back to the floor again.  
“Aye.”  
  
That seemed to settle something between them, and Marianne felt Bog relax beside her. She was sorry to have offended him if that was what had happened, but she wasn’t sure how to go about apologising when she didn’t know _exactly_ what she’d said that set him off.  
She figured she’d have to try though, as she didn’t want Bog to think ill of her.  
  
“Sorry tha’ I snapped - “ “Sorry that I judged -”  
  
Their words jumbled and fell over one another as they blurted them out at the same time, and Marianne huffed out a laugh as Bog scratched the back of his neck. They were both smiling now, and she felt relieved to think that the tension from before hadn’t hurt their still-developing friendship.  
Friends with the king of the Dark Forest - not a sentence she’d thought she’d ever hear or think of.  
But, at this point, not a sentence she completely dismissed or felt she could be without.  
  
“I really am though… Whatever I said? I take it back. It’s not my place to judge how you do things here” She tried, and she thought that his eyes became a bit softer then as they looked at her. Okay, that was good, she was definitely on the right track.  
  
“I’m sorry about… last night too. If I was being too forward, I mean, I stand by what I said - but I know I can be a bit too much sometimes, and that I really should consider my words before I speak and, it _would_ be a _scandal_ and I know I pushed it and -”  
  
And then it was like a stream she couldn’t turn off, and for a second Marianne felt like she’d reverted back to her younger, naive and self-doubting self. Roland always thought it was adorable when she started rambling, and in the beginning, she’d not let it get her down. But as she got older and more secure in her role as queen, the rambling was a sign of weakness she’d found, and she did her best to never stammer or seem insecure.  
  
Luckily her companion decided to end her misery as he laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. He was facing her now, and the small smile on his lips assured her that whatever she had to be sorry for, was all in her head.  
She sighed and made an effort to thin her lips into a straight line while shaking her head and closing her eyes. The grimace won her a chuckle, and Marianne could feel the skin underneath Bogs hand tingle with heat.  
  
“Yer alright.” Bog said as he stood from the table, turned and held out a hand towards her. She took it and let herself be hoisted from the wooden surface in one swooping motion.  
“Fer a fairy.” He then added while buzzing his wings at her, and the jab was not lost with her, but before she could retaliate, Griselda came strolling in from one of the tunnels.  
  
“Geez, what are you two doing up so early?” She quipped, and Marianne felt herself let go of Bog’s hand the second he himself set to let go.  
“I saw that.” Griselda chuckled as she walked by, and Bog slumped slightly as his gaze followed his mother as she went through the throne room.  
  
“An’ wha’ are ye doin’ up?” He tried to break the tension, and Griselda gave him a swift wave of her hand before she went to one of the walls. It had what looked like a mended crack in it, and Marianne watched as the old queen let her hand glide gently over the ruined wood.  
  
“The rain’s been pummeling us for hours now. Seems like the castle will hold though.” She said as she inspected her hand before walking to another crack.  
“We should work on strengthening some of these again. And the lower levels could use some work too. Gods know the dungeon has seen better days.” She said matter of factly, and Marianne noticed how Bog didn’t answer her.  
He simply let her go about and inspect things, his eyes contemplative but his posture otherwise relaxed and unbothered.  
Perhaps they often helped each other when it came to running everything around the castle?  
  
Marianne found that thought rather sweet, and she thought that maybe she should ask for father for advice more often. Griselda seemed to like being of use anyway, perhaps it was the same for her own father?  
“Is everyone alright? Bog told me about some goblins actually quite liking the rain.”  
  
Griselda turned at the question and shot her a humored smile. “Don’t you worry, everyone’s fine!” She said with a wink, and Marianne found that she rather liked the old queen.“  
If you’re so interested in learning about goblin culture, why don’t you take this one and go to the library for a few hours? I’ll handle things here.” She said while turning, and Bog straightened as he looked at this mother in protest.  
“Ye might need help. Ye’ve been doin’ a lot lately.” He said, but Griselda didn’t turn to answer him and simply kept on checking the cracks in the walls. As she started humming an old tune Bog rolled his eyes and sighed.  
He looked at Marianne then, and while she felt sorry for him in a way, she also quite liked the thought of reading up on the Dark Forest.  
  
“I mean if you don’t mind?” She said while shrugging, a playful smile evident on her face, and in the end, Bog was quick to motion for her to follow him.  
“Well, le’s go then.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The sound of rain could still be heard outside, and as Marianne turned over another page in the book she was currently engaged in battle with, her wings shivered slightly. The air had grown colder over the hours as the rain kept coming, and she wished she’d brought one of her shawls with her to the library.  
Bog peeked at her from his skull chair, and when she looked at him he raised an eyebrow in question.  
  
“Oh, it’s just a little cold. I’ll manage.” She said gently, but he closed up the scroll he was currently writing in in favor of now scanning over her form. As his eyes moved over her she felt herself blush slightly, but before she could ask what he was doing he spoke; “Why do ye wear tha’ if it does nah keep ye warm?” He said, the question honest enough but also quite awkward.  
  
“Modesty?” She tried, but when his face grew even more confused. “Your mother wears clothes too you know." Her voice portrayed humor and a bit of sarcasm, but Bog really looked like the whole thing didn’t make sense.  
“Fer fun she does. She does nah need to though.” He added, and Marianne thought that wearing clothes for fun would be the exact kind of thing Griselda would do.  
  
“We wear them to… protect ourselves! Fairy skin is not as tough as goblin skin, and so we need the layers to keep ourselves from getting scratches all the time. They keep us warm when we use them right, and they are funtoo as they come in different styles, colors, and patterns.”  
  
He seemed to contemplate her words for some time, and then he nodded as he added; “And for modesty?” Marianne felt herself blush, but she nodded her head anyway.  
“Yup, modesty. Fairies like modesty.” She said as she squirmed slightly in her seat, and luckily Bog understood enough to not inquire further.  
  
Her wings shivered again and she felt how her arms prickled with goosebumps as another bout of cold air glazed over her.  
“I have some other clothes in my bag back in my room. If you don’t mind I’d like to fetch them. I’ll be right back?” She said as she rose from her seat, and she was surprised to see that Bog rose as well.  
  
“Do ye kno’ the way to yer room and back?” He said, his eyes genuine with concern, and Marianne found that very endearing. She chuckled slightly as she pushed out her chair and walked around the wooden table.  
“Would you like to accompany me?”  
Though it was meant as a joke, Marianne was once again surprised to see Bog walk out from his chair and grab his scepter. He then walked to stand beside her as he eyed her expectantly, and her heart thumped lightly in her chest at how eager he was to help her.  
  
They exited the library in silence, and as they walked down one of the corridors Marianne found that the silence continued. Bog looked rather relaxed walking beside her though, so perhaps it was only her that felt the silence?  
She decided to zone out and just listen to the rain instead of worrying about it, and soon they were at the door to her room.  
“I’ll just be a minute.”  
  
The doors closed behind her and she breathed out as she stood alone. Bog’s company was nice and something she wasn’t used to, and the adventure she found herself on was one she actually rather appreciated. But the whole thing was also rather stressful, and she could feel her heart hammering in her chest.  
So far she hadn’t insulted him beyond redemption, which she thought was rather impressive of her, and he hadn’t voiced any complaints of her being here.  
  
Well, it wasn’t as if she could leave. Not when the weather was like this, but she was pretty sure that Bog didn’t mind her being here at his castle. She suddenly remembered how his eyes had lit up last night when she’d assured him of her interest, and perhaps he did really like her company too?  
A smile crept onto her face as she rummaged through her back. She found a black shawl made from badger fur at the bottom and brought it up to hug it tightly to her chest.  
Badgers were ferocious and dangerous to fight, and the shawl had been one her mother brought her from the Dark Forest years ago. It seemed oddly fitting that it once again found itself inside its borders.  
She donned she shawl, making sure to gently cover her wings, and then she rummaged through her bag for some pieces of dried fruit.  
  
Bog hadn’t mentioned anything about breakfast, and she while she hadn’t been hungry this morning, the spar had left her starving. She put a piece of dried peach in her mouth and gently chewed on it as she picked up one of the knives she’d brought along.  
As she studied the blade her mind went back to the hunting knife that had been at the scene yesterday. _Smeared_ _in goblin blood._  
The thought made her skin itch. Not only had a goblin been injured to smear the knife in its blood, that same goblin was also being blamed for the attack.  
Perhaps she was being biased for hating Roland at this point, but Bog had been nothing but kind and understanding so far. Sure they’d fought earlier, but that was based on presumptions and flaws in her own upbringing, and Marianne was almost certain that he had nothing to do with all of this.  
  
So far the goblins in the castle hadn’t bothered her either. They were kind and polite when she passed them, though some simply grunted at her as they shot her weary looks, but Marianne thought that was only natural. She was technically an intruder anyway.  
She hadn’t meant to make such a scene with her arrival. The landing was a spur of the moment, and truth be told she was actually certain she’d hit someone in the face with her wings.  
But the goblins had nonetheless welcomed her into their home and for that Marianne was grateful.  
  
As she swallowed her piece of peach and went to take another from her bag, an uncertain knocking came from her door. She turned with the new piece hanging from her lips, and she suddenly remembered how she’d left Bog outside to wait.  
“One second!” She shouted as she eagerly chewed down her fruit. She then placed the knife gently into her bag, pulled out a scarf made from spider silk and picked up a piece of dried apple for the journey back to the library.  
“Jus’ wanted ta make sure ye were alright - no need ta hurry!” Came the response from the other side, and Marianne found herself relaxing a bit.  
  
As she opened the door she noticed that Bog was leaning against a wall on the other side. He immediately perked up when he saw her though, and she chuckled as he looked intently at her shawl.  
“Is tha’ badger?” He said in an impressed tone, and Marianne brought up her hands to brush her fingers through the fur.  
“It was a gift. From your parents.” His eyes widened and his head cocked to the side as he inspected the fur.   
“My mother brought it back for me when I was very little. Back then I remember draping myself in it and playing warrior princess.” She chuckled, but her cheeks and ears grew red at his response; “Ah see yer dream’s come true then. Yer not playin’ anymore.”  
  
Before she could answer him he’d started to walk back towards the library, but Marianne thought she noticed a small smile on his lips, and that in return made her smile as well.  
“Was that a compliment?” She quipped as she ran to catch up to him, and as he shrugged his shoulders she couldn’t help bumping into him with her hip.  
“You’re quite full of those, aren’t you?” She winked at him, and this time he blushed as he cleared his throat.  
  
“Well, when ye’ve got nothin’ nice ta say ye shoud’ hold yer tongue. Ah figured it would be th’ other way around if ye did… have nice things t’ say tha’ is.” He averted his eyes slightly, but Marianne simply beamed at him in gratefulness.  
“Well, thank you then.”  
She felt a spring coming into her steps as they went back to the library, and once they reached the wooden doors to it she couldn’t help but ask;  
“I was wondering if you would let me go over some of the more ancient history? Our records hold almost no knowledge of the forest as if someone burned it all, and I would love to know more about it.”  
As Bog opened the doors and went inside the library without a word, Marianne almost thought that he wasn’t going to answer her. She feared that she’d overstepped a boundary of some sort, and that maybe the history of the forest was sacred?  
Some books about fairy history were too brittled and old to be handled, and so only royalty of the fairy kingdom had access to them back at her home, and she figured that any sort of documents containing ancient scribes were either gone or also too old to touch here in the forest.  
But before she had the chance to worry further, Bog had brought back a large book and placed it on the table at her seat.  
She walked up to him as he turned to a specific chapter, and Marianne scanned her eyes over the page.  
  
“Tenebrious and lady Aurora?” Her brows furrowed as she quickly scanned over the first few lines.  
“What does the God of dusk and Goddess of dawn have to do with anything?”  
  
She watched as Bog placed a clawed finger at a line further down the page.  
“The fields glimmered wit’ ancient magic as her lady Aurora laid her blessins’ upon th’ land. Flowers bloomed, springs sprang forth, life erupted all over an’ the goddess looked on wit’ gladness.  
But wha’ she dinnae kno’ was tha’ another deity watched from th’ treelines nearby, an’ soon inky tendrils of thorns an’ vines crept forth to blend with th’ light.  
Upon seein’ the work of the other God, lady Aurora went to scold him, but Tenebrious simply said; _Fair lady. Ah_ _wanted t’ bring the gifts of blessings too as ye did with this barren land where mah vines grew thick and_ _suffocating, but Ah find Ah can only bring gloom and dark to yer light. Will ye teach me to bring life?_  
Upon hearin’ his words lady Aurora grew sad, yet understanding of his predicament, and so she took his hand in hers to comfort him. But upon doing so, a new sort of light sprang forth, one of golden twilight and warm colors decked both th’ fields an’ th’ forest for a few seconds before dissipating.  
Seein’ tha’ they both brought forth the best in each other, the two deities lived side by side for the rest of eternity, an’ each night an’ each morn they met at th’ borders of their homes to bring forth twilight and warmth to th’ creatures they guarded.”  
  
Marianne blinked as Bog stopped reading aloud, and she turned her head to look at him.  
“We have a version of that story too in the fields; Tenebrious was a powerful sprite that come from the Crystalline falls. One day he goes to the east of the fields to practice his magic, but instead of making the flowers bloom, he turns them into twisted versions of themselves by accident. He creates thistles and thorns, vines and dark trees, and while his powers run rampant, a Goddess notices him from afar.  
She runs to stop him from destroying the fields, and her light banishes his darkness and keeps it from spreading. Meanwhile, Tenebrious himself has become malformed and his skin is now pitch black and dripping like ink.  
He cries for the Goddess to save him, swearing that he did not mean to do any of it, and she takes pity upon and goes to kiss him.  
With the kiss, her light shines through him, and Tenebrious finds himself bound to the Goddess as he himself turns into a God through her powers.  
He cannot leave her side due to the magic, and so he stays in the eastern part of the fields that are now gloomy and dark. Over time the two fall in love, and each night and each morning they meet at the border of dark and light to bring forth twilight.”  
  
Bog kept her gaze while she talked, and Marianne found that she began to understand the point that Bog had wanted to make.  
“Our two kingdoms have always been so close, and they even share some of the same stories…” Marianne felt her face fall as she looked back at the book. The illustrations that it bore showed two figures of darkness and light hugging, and in their middle, a golden light enveloped what looked like the fields and the forest.  
“Th’ book contains more stories o’ origin. Some are tales like this one, and others are accounts from the past written in by those who were there.”  
She watched as Bog walked around her to sit back down in his own chair, and as Marianne pulled up to the table something stirred in her chest.  
  
“I want our kingdoms to be close again.” She said as Bog opened up the scroll he’d worked on earlier. His hands stilled as he turned his head to look at her, and for a while, they just looked into each other’s eyes.  
“I mean if you want to. Roland never wanted anything to do with the Dark Forest, but I always thought it a pity that our two kingdoms didn’t corporate. There’s so much we could do if we worked together you know?”  
Her eyes were honest as she tried a small smile in his direction.  
  
“Ah would not oppose to tha’.” Bog said gently, and Marianne thought she saw something like affection in his eyes.  
She smiled at that.  
She turned her gaze down towards the book again, and then she looked up at him through her lashes, a playful look on her face.  
“Did you show me this particular story because you _wanted_ me to suggest a proper alliance? You know you could’ve just asked, right?”  
  
His cheeks grew red as he recoiled slightly at her words, and Marianne chuckled a bit as he drew up a hand to scratch at the back of his neck. “Ah dinnae kno’ how ta’ ask. Ah figured ye’d want mah help to denounce yer husband, an’ then you’d…”  
  
Her eyes grew a little sad then, and soon she was sure she looked downright disappointed. It had Bog squirm in his seat and look anywhere but at her, and Marianne figured that she hadn’t made herself clear enough earlier.  
“You thought I’d want nothing to do with you? Even after I told you twice that I wouldn’t mind?”  
  
He swallowed as he finally looked at her. “People donnae long for mah company yer Highness. They wan’ nothin’ ta’ do with me in fact. Ah am sorry ye think Ah dorn’t believe ye but… even naow Ah find it difficult t’ understand tha’ yer this close to me, _an’_ out of yer own volition.”  
His eyes were sad and his voice filled with anguish, and Marianne felt her heart twist with her own version of grief.  
  
“You don’t scare me.” She said, her voice steadfast and her gaze locked onto his as she thinned her lips. The words didn’t have the effect she’d hoped for though, as he hung his head and sighed. “Ah believe ye.”  
“Then what is it?” She tried, and his voice shook as he spoke again; “Ah’m too hideous to love.”

Love. The word felt like a lie to her. It promised so much and yet it held so many deceits that the very thought of it made Marianne sick to her stomach on most days. She’d been in love once, and she remembered the feeling well. With Roland, it was always so grand and breathtaking, and then it fell flat on its face when push came to shove, and she found herself more disappointed than relieved in the end.  
_*But you don’t love Bog either?*_  
  
“No. But I could.” She whispered to herself, and she felt her heart skip a beat as soon as the words were out of her mouth. She really could, couldn’t she? Up until now, he’d been everything she’d needed; kind, trusting, loyal and respectful.  
He stepped up when things mattered and he showed her genuine concern. No scorn or bitterness at her success, nor did he mock her when she failed.  
They fought, but the fights were never in vain, and Marianne thought that perhaps that was what her marriage should’ve really been?  
_For better or for worse, through thick and thin._  
  
Bog looked at her, confusion and distress evident on his face, and she figured he might’ve heard her.  
“I don’t love you.” She said and he cringed in response. “But I could.” She smiled, and this time he straightened in his seat.  
His eyes grew impossibly round and the blue of them almost seemed to shine. She waited several seconds, but all he did was stare at her in disbelief. She tried waving at him, but he didn’t move a muscle, and she was afraid something might be wrong.  
“Are you… okay?” She tried.  
  
“Do ya kno’ who Sugarplum is?”  
  
That… was not what she’d expected.  
“She’s a sprite from the Crystalline Falls. She was known for making love potions, but then you got them banned and locked her away. Which is, now that we’re talking about this, actually not okay. You shouldn’t have done that.”  
She tried to sound stern, but the question really did baffle her. Why did he bring something like that up now? “We were going to make a deal with you for her release, but everything got so tangled up and in the end it never made it past the drawing board…”  
  
That made Bog look even more nervous and Marianne thought perhaps he regretted something.  
  
“Ah’m not proud of this but… she got locked away because…” He looked off to the side, his face torn in pain, and Marianne shifted in her seat as she looked at him.  
“Ah made her… she…” He sighed deeply and closed his eyes as if the words hurt too much.  
  
“She made a potion fer me. Bu’ it dinnae work. Even th’ most powerful potion in the world could not make someone fall in love with me. Ah am… too hideous.”  
  
He rose out of his seat to walk to one of the bookcases. It didn’t seem like he’d needed anything in particular though, and now he simply stood with his back turned to her.  
“It hurt fer a long time, still does… but Ah’ve come ta terms with it. No one… will ever love me. Not _really._ ”  
  
The words stung and Marianne felt herself rise out of her seat before she’d even decided to do so. The scraping sound of the chair made Bog turn slightly, and their eyes met.  
Thunder boomed outside once more, and Marianne felt the storm as her own. Her heart raced as she walked around the large table towards him, and Bog turned completely to stand face to face with her as she got closer.  
  
“Your courage, your honesty, your willingness to help, and your trust in me.” She said as she took the last few steps towards him, and she saw how his face contorted in confusion when she stopped.  
“Call me cheesy… But those are the things I _already_ love about you.” He took a step back and Marianne held up her hands at his frightened expression.  
  
“Monsters are not born Bog, they’re made. And even after what you’ve just told me, what you’ve been through? You’re not a monster. You don’t act like one and you don’t look like one.”  
She didn’t try to move closer to him, but let him keep the distance as he went through what looked like the five stages of grief.  
When his eyes eventually found hers they shone with something new, and it was a feeling she wasn’t sure how to interpret; _Longing._


	14. Chapter 12 - Know me Well

“Why did ye not leave him when ye first found out?”  
  
After Bog had revealed his own ventures of love, Marianne had found it easier to tell him of Roland’s deceit. He was now the second person to know, and while her heart had been thundering in her chest from the second she’d  decided to tell him, she found that she didn’t regret it.   
  
“I guess I was just… scared. I didn’t want to be humiliated, and perhaps some part of me just wanted it not to be true. Being caught didn’t stop him from doing it again though, and for the past three years our marriage has been  nothing but a facade.”   
She found that she was chuckling. Oddly enough the situation seemed funny to her, and she couldn’t keep  herself from laughing.   
“Oh Gods, I am such an idiot!” She threw up her hands to bury her face in them, and the wooden surface of the  table creaked beneath her.   
  
They’d once again situated themselves at the table, but this time they’d both sat down on top of it instead of in  one of the chairs.   
“I should’ve just outed him then! I can’t believe I was that naive!” She rubbed her eyelids with her palms, and the  motion was actually quite soothing. Her vision blackened and then it blurred when she removed her hands again though, and she blinked several times to get back her sight.   
“I mean? Who knows if the Southern kingdom will cut ties with us? Maybe they’ll be scandalized at his behaviour! Maybe Dawn is right!”   
She gestured to nothing in particular as the words flew angrily from her mouth. Bog was simply looking at her, his brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed.   
  
They’d spend the past few hours just talking, and Marianne had found that Bog had actually opened up more so than usual. He’d told her more about his past love for one. Not in great detail, but just enough for her to understand what had happened.   
He’d also told her how Aura, the Sugarplum fairy, was still locked away in his dungeon, and after much persuasion, she’d gotten him to agree to have Aura face trial in front of a real council to pay for her slights. If Marianne knew the sprite council well they would welcome her back with open arms, and so the actual trial was just to sate Bog’s nerves about letting her go.   
  
He’d showed her the dungeon where he kept the Sugarplum fairy, and the tiny version of a sprite had jumped with glee when she saw Marianne. She’d made some snide comments his way, and threatened with telling the tale of their bargain, but Marianne had assured her that she knew enough.   
When the sprite found out she had no leverage on the Bog king her mood had fallen, but when she’d heard she was to be given a proper trial, they’d both had to cover their ears as she erupted into song and fireworks.   
Well, at least she didn’t seem to carry a grudge towards Bog.   
  
In the end, they’d wound back up in the library after fetching some food from the kitchen, and the day had turned into evening as they feasted and talked.   
  
“Ye did wha’ ye thought was reit. No one can blame ya fer that.”   
  
She sighed as she chewed down another almond biscuit. “I don’t know if I even know what’s right or wrong anymore. So far I haven’t really accomplished anything other than honing myself. The Fairfield’s would probably be better off without me…”   
She put both her hands down on the table and hunched over at the shoulders. Her eyes studied the lines in the wooden floor beneath her feet, and while talking to Bog felt nice, the burden she carried on her shoulders only seemed to get heavier with each passing second.   
  
“What do ye mean?” Came the question beside her, and Marianne felt like perhaps now was the best time to reveal what had been on her mind for the past year or so.   
“I am not the queen they envisioned. I can tell how disappointed they are in me; I am not quaint nor fair as a fairy should be, I argue too much, asks too many questions and I don’t _look_ like royalty. I realized after a while that I didn’t like the weight of the crown on my head, and so I just leave it in my room more often than not.”   
  
She took in a shuddering breath to continue, and she was both nervous and relieved that Bog wasn’t interrupting her; “The council all stiffens and look at me like I’m a disaster ready to happen when I enter the council room, and they don’t care for my opinion. They always manage to outrule me, and Roland has completely pacified me at this point to be honest. I know I want to tell myself that I do my best to fight back, but honestly? I never win… he won’t let me, and I don’t know for how much longer I can pretend to be content.”   
  
Maybe she had the courage to say all of this because it was Bog and not her family that was present. Dawn would have kicked open the door to the council room and went haywire on them.   
Her little sister had gained more courage and become bolder over the years, and Marianne wished she could be as brave as her. Her father would have told her that she worried too much, that she should try to look on the bright side of it all and just _try_ to be happy.   
In his defense, he was old and worn, and she knew that even the slightest smell of trouble made him exhausted.   
  
Bog shifted at her side and to her surprise, he covered her right hand with his left. She looked down on their hands on the tabletop, and despite herself, she twisted her hand around to let Bog’s hand rest in her palm. Slowly but steadily she hooked her fingers into his, and her eyes widened as he returned the gesture.   
She felt her cheeks go warm as they held hands, and when Bog started to gently rub his thumb over the back of her own she swallowed.   
  
“Sounds ta’ me like it’s yer council an’ husband tha’s the problem - not you.”   
  
Bog was also staring at their conjoined hands as he kept caressing her thumb and Marianne felt herself lean towards him slowly. Her eyes became heavy as her lids fell slightly, her lashes brushing gently over cheeks as she blinked, and soon her face was only a few daring moments away from his shoulder.   
  
“We all need to change. I do too.” She said as she looked up at him through her lashes, and she noticed how his eyes lidded too as he looked towards her.   
Before she had the chance to change her mind, Marianne leaned in and put her head against Bog’s shoulder. She then let out a sigh and closed her eyes, waiting for his reaction.   
When he didn’t pull away from her, her posture relaxed a bit, and she ended up leaning more of her weight against him as she crept closer.   
Their still-joined hands ended up on top of her thigh as she settled closely beside him, and after a while, Bog started to caress her thumb again.   
  
“Thank you… for listening I mean.” She said and she felt him nod beside her. “Thank ye for tellin’ me.”   
  
They spent a long time just sitting at the table like that. Conversation flowed easily between them, and they talked about all sorts of things. Their respective childhoods, how they wished they’d met when they were kids, the alliance that had bloomed before her mother’s death, and how Bog’s parents had wished it hadn’t been terminated.   
There was a lot of potential for the fields and the forest as allies, and Marianne knew for certain that she’d want to establish a truce between the two kingdoms when all this ended.   
They talked about how they each ruled their kingdoms, their laws, their problems, and their solutions. They talked about everything and nothing at all, and Marianne felt herself grow more and more attached to Bog as the hours went on.   
  
“I think its stopped thundering?” Marianne leaned away from Bog’s shoulder as she perked up her ears. The rain was still coming down, but not as heavy as before and there really was no thunder to be heard.  Marianne also noticed how her inner storm seemed to have calmed as well, and she felt completely at ease.   
Her right hand was warm and tingling at this point. They’d gone from holding hands to caressing each other’s palms, then he’d laid his hand on top of hers and entwined their fingers like that, and then back to holding hands and as her overstimulated flesh was removed from his, Marianne felt how her skin seemed electric.   
  
“Aye, it has.” Bog looked towards the ceiling as if he could see the rain through it. “I reckon mah mother would like some help overseein’ the damages.” He said as he moved to stand. Marianne jumped from her sitting position on the table to stand as well, and as Bog picked up his scepter from the surface her turned to her;   
“Can ye find yer way back to yer room?”   
  
She chuckled at him and rolled her eyes. “Yes, I can. You don’t want my help though? I’d really love to help you overlook the damages.” She tried but Bog shook his head as he walked towards the entrance to the library.   
“This will only be quick sweep t’ make sure nothing major has happened. In a few hours, we’ll look around again when th’ rain has gotten more gentle. Tha’ inspection will be more thorough, and Ah’d love yer help then.”   
  
He finished as he opened the door and held it for her. Marianne nodded gratefully and walked out into the corridor. “Alright, well. Wake me for the second sweep then.” She said enthusiastically, and as Bog made to turn in the opposite direction of her, she turned and shot him a gentle smile.   
“Goodnight, Bog.”   
  
He turned to look at her one last time, his eyes gentle and his features relaxed. “G’night.”   
  


\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

* Later that night

  
The rain was still coming down heavy, and even with the mouse hide to shield his wings, Richard could feel how they quivered in fear of being torn apart. Water was something fairies naturally avoided, and other than for bathing, it was unnatural to touch it willingly.  
The drops were fat and heavy, and had it not been for the cover of the grass, they would have nailed them all to the ground.  
  
As soon as the thunder and lightning had let up, Richard and Nicholas had set out to finish the job Roland had given them. The rain itself was still a problem of course, but the winds had slowed down and the raindrops themselves were a little smaller now - though not by much.  
  
It was about three in the morning. The ride from Elven village itself had taken quite some time, and what with how they needed to move slow to not get noticed, and the water was wearing them down, Richard knew that it would be another three hours at least before they could be back at the castle.  
Roland had told them to be fast - in and out without getting spotted - and Richard hoped that this was fast enough. The Gods knew Roland wouldn’t accept excuses, and so Richard ushered Chipper to speed up once more.   
  
The squirrel shook its fur free of rainwater before picking up its pace, and the brownie behind the two brothers squeaked as always as it clung to the beast’s fur.  
The damn creature had been quite loud on the entirety of the journey, and Nicholas was constantly looking towards the sky to make sure nobody had heard them.  
They were only seconds away from the Forbidden Passage, and the spot Richard had chosen for the deed, and they had been lucky so far in going undetected.  
The spot was perfect - close to the official entranceway between the two kingdoms, out in the open and a clear way to send a signal.  
  
It hadn’t been difficult to convince the brownie to join them. It was with its family, and its mother had insisted it stayed home while the rain still poured down, but Richard had convinced it to join them.   
The brownie in question was new in the scouting squad, and therefore eager to prove its worth, and as soon as Richard mentioned that this would win it great favors with the royal family, it had jumped at the opportunity. Admirable, he thought, but also such a waste.   
Of course, the brownie’s family would be receiving a letter later this evening with tales of how they were ambushed, and how the mission had been top secret, and that their names should never be mentioned to anyone.  
It had been easier to conceal the death of the elf family. Their house had been located at the far end of the Elven village, and therefore it was quite remote. No one noticed they were gone before they were discovered at the border, and by bringing their scavenging gear, Richard and his brothers had made the incident look like a foraging-trip gone wrong.  
  
The company came to a halt at the Forbidden Passage, and the brownie jumped off of Chipper to stand underneath the bush they’d situated themselves beneath.  
It was eager to get started, but Richard held up a hand before it had a chance to speak and motioned for it to look around them.  
It looked around, confusion evident on its face, and Richard and Nicholas both drew their axes as they too dismounted Chipper.  
  
You never forget the face of someone who looks death in the eyes. And it hadn’t even been forty-eight hours since Richard had seen it last. Nonetheless, he slashed, he pulled, he flung and he made sure that Roland’s plan would succeed.  
For if Roland didn’t succeed, neither would he and his brothers.  
  
It had been a pact made long before Roland married into the throne, long before the responsibilities of adulthood pressed down on either of them. They grew; up together, the four of them, and you do not betray your brothers - blood or no blood.  
Roland was a part of the pack as much as Richard himself, and Roland had made sure that all of them lived in luxury. People knew their names because of him, and Richard owed everything to Roland.  
  
He wiped his brow free of the accumulated dew that had gathered there as Nicholas came back from the forest with the brownie corpse covered in muck and grime.  
He’d thrown the brownie into some thorns to ruffle it up, and it had ended up piercing one of its eyes. It was nothing but mush and liquid as it dripped down its chin, and Richard scoffed as Nicholas threw it on the ground.  
It’s left arm was hanging by the tendons, and its stomach had been ripped open.  
  
“If that’s not a goblin attack, I don’t know what is.” Richard said with a smug expression on his face, but before Nicholas could reply, a sound came from the forest.  
It was a quick snap and a ruffle of leaves, and the two brothers unsheathed their swords with haste as they looked around them.   
Even with the facade that they’d put up to conceal their true intentions from the Fairfield’s, there was no doubt that the brothers could fight. They had been trained as elite soldiers from childhood, and they were Roland’s personal bodyguards for a reason.  
  
Their stances were strong, their weapons gleamed as water clung to the metal, and the air around them was silent enough for any moving thing to be detected. Several seconds passed, and when nothing emerged, Richard motioned for them both to get back to Chipper.  
“Probably just the rain. Damn drops are so thick they could break your back!” Nicholas said as they saddled up.  
  
Richard took his brother’s hand as it was extended to him from Chipper’s back, and he jumped on while still eyeing the surrounding area. The water was heavy, yes but the sounds around them had been constant. A steady stream of drips and drops. This sound had been an invasion in their otherwise constant rhythm, and Richard couldn’t help but get a little nervous.  
Well, perhaps a twig or a leaf on a bush gave away to finally surrender to the rain, and Richard thought that getting paranoid was not what he needed right now.  
  
As they got properly situated atop the squirrel, they both turned to take one last look at the scene before them. It was more detailed than their previous attempts, more roughed up, and perfect for anyone to stumble upon.   
  
The first squad of the newly established border patrol was sure to come this way in an hour or two, and Richard smiled wickedly at the thought of their reactions.  
Nicholas had placed the piece of amber inside the mouth of the brownie, and the golden orb shone beneath the light from above. It was the perfect symbol of betrayed trust, both now, and when it was first given as a gift all those years ago.  
It made Richard smirk to think about it as he turned Chipper around to ride back towards the castle. The stage was set, the scene in motion, and now all they needed was for the rising sun to bring them the dawn of day, and the new era of the Fairfield’s could begin.  

*

The towers of the courtyard that held the main front doors of the Fairfield castle was coming into view, and Richard felt a relieved sigh coming from behind him.   
The rain was nothing but a light drizzle at this point, and Richard had been amazed at how quickly the storm had  dissipated. Only half an hour into their trip back the drops didn’t feel as heavy, and now he hardly felt the water at  all.   
The movements of Chipper’s muscles had gotten his back all stiff and his rump all numb though, and Richard  was just as eager to get off of this animal as Nicholas was.   
It had taken roughly the same amount of hours to get back to the castle, and now they just needed to get down to  the stables without getting spotted.   
The rain had cleaned them of any excess dirt and scratches, and they had made sure to clean themselves of any  blood and otherwise revealing liquids themselves.   
  
Roland would be pleased. Everything had gone according to plan, and Richard couldn’t wait to tell his king all  about it.   
They’d managed to not get spotted, and aside from the brownie family at the Elven village, no one knew of the  dead brownie’s whereabouts or what it had been doing this morning. The family could be handled easily enough - scouting teams getting jumped was not something new, and fatality was a rising trend, so things were going  according to plan.   
  
But then he saw them; Soldiers upon soldiers, all gearing up, walking in clusters, getting shouted at by commanders, and practicing drills. Richard steered Chipper away from the commotion, and as he headed towards the stables, he saw Roland in the distance.   
  
The second their king came within earshot he shouted at them both.   
“No trouble I suspect? How was the perimeter?” Whatever guards that came from the armory didn’t seem to mind them, but Richard knew exactly what Roland was getting at and shouted back; “Nothing noteworthy! Everything is calm.”   
  
They dismounted Chipper and a stable boy led the beast away to be cleaned down and fed. Richard shot Roland a confused look as he walked over, and the three gathered in a close circle to speak amongst themselves.   
“Phillip will be joining us shortly, but he already knows what’s going on. Marianne bolted. She left for the Dark Forest, but after thinking about it, I think it’s the best scenario we could have ever hoped for!” Roland said happily, and Nicholas and Richard looked between each other and then back to their leader.   
“I told everyone she was kidnapped, made it believable too, now all we need to do is find her - “ He looked from side to side and over their shoulders, making sure no one could hear them;   
“And kill her. The Bog king will be blamed, and we can finally burn down that wretched place.”   
  
They all straightened back up, and while Richard and Nicholas bore surprised and tentative expressions, Roland’s was one of triumph and wickedness.   
“Just imagine it boys; a world where we’re free to do whatever the hell we want. No more goblin’s, no more nagging wives. No one will have the nerve to contradict me ever again, not after this.”   
  
Richard didn’t say anything, but looked at Roland to scan for any humor. His king was dead serious though, and Richard figured if Roland was ready to kill his own wife to be in total command, then so would he be - nothing would stand between them and their collective dream.   
  
The plan was waterproof, as long as they got to the queen first of course, and Richard was determined to make that happen. This was their chance at greatness. With Roland as the sole ruler and official royal blood of the Fairfield’s, the opportunities would be plentiful and great!   
Their roles would be much bigger, and they would have a lot more influence - Roland had promised them after all. Phillip came walking up behind him, and as he nodded towards them all in greeting, Roland explained to him that everything was taken care of and that they were ready to go.   
  
They armored up, fetched any remaining weapons they might need, and soon all three of them were marching out - Richard beside Roland at the head of the army, and Nicholas and Phillip sprinting ahead for one last job.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

* The next morning.  


“Ah figured Ah’d find ye here.” The doors to the library closed behind him as Bog entered the room, and Marianne looked up from her book with a gentle, welcoming expression.   
“I didn’t get to finish this last night.” The giant book of the Dark Forest lore lay before her on the table, and Marianne was currently hunched over as she read through the pages about the first king of the forest.   
  
“This is really interesting. Thank you for letting me read it.” She smiled and Bog nodded in her direction as he took the skull seat at the end of the table.   
His scepter was once again wedged in between the fangs of the skull, and as soon as it was out of his hands, Bog stretched and cracked his neck.   
He groaned in relief and Marianne felt her cheeks and ears go hot at the sight.   
  
“Do you have back issues? I mean, since you keep doing that?” She didn’t mean to pry, and she half-expected Bog to be mad at her for asking, but he shrugged his shoulders in a roll and leaned back in his seat with a smirk.   
“Ah hunch over too much. Ah guess tha’ gets mah spine in a tiff.”   
He crossed his legs as he looked at the book in front of her, his gaze skimming over the first few lines on the page closest to him.   
  
“Well, if you ever need a backrub? Just tell me.” She said with a wink, and this time it was Bog’s turn to blush. He cleared his throat in a chuckle, and Marianne thought that they’d made a lot of progress after last night’s heart-to-heart. She really liked where this whole thing was going.   
  
Suddenly the doors to the library creaked open, and a small, finned brown goblin with feelers on its head came running at them through it.   
“Sire! Eh, sire! I have urgent news from the border!”   
  
Marianne felt Bog tense beside her, and she watched as he straightened in the chair and his hand went for his scepter. He then stood from the seat to walk over to the smaller goblin, and right as rain he hunched as he did so.   
The little goblin didn’t seem intimidated by his king’s posture though, and Marianne thought that perhaps he was used to it.   
Bog motioned for the goblin to go on, and he jumped in place before stuttering; “The- the mushrooms sire! They saw them before everyone else, bu-but several goblins have now confirmed and, eh, I… I think - “   
  
Bog rolled his eyes as his wings buzzed in irritation, and Marianne felt bad for the small guy. He was obviously distraught, and Bog’s behaviour was not helping. The little goblin was shaking, his crooked fangs rattling as his lips were quivering, and while she knew that dealing with panicking subjects was not easy, she also knew that making them uncomfortable was not the best approach - in fact, that was probably the worst way to approach anyone.   
  
“Well, spit it out Thang!” Bog groaned, but before any of them could react, another small, stout goblin came running in screaming.   
  
“Another murder your majesty, a brownie this time, and they were found at the Forbidden Passage!”

*

The rain was less insistent now, but the light drizzle that came down outside could still earn you one hell of a cold. Marianne wasn’t quite sure if it was the thought of going out there in nothing but a tunic and her boots and  leggings, or if it was the fact that another murder had somehow managed to happen while the world had been drowning in a spring shower, that had her shaking.   
  
It was common for the weather to be unstable like this, and rain in early spring was nothing new, but Marianne still felt her blood boiling at the timing. Of course, a storm had to happen while a murderer was on the loose, and what with how they had managed to kill while the rain was coming down like this, only added to Roland’s claims of it being goblins who were behind it all.   
Bog had already explained that certain goblins did well in this weather! And no fairy, sprite or elf would risk injury to do something like this… would they?   
  
That was another part of the mystery that Marianne had considered last night as she was falling asleep. The council meeting had been tumbling around in her head, and she’d been forced to look at everything from a new angle.   
She still refused to believe that goblins had anything to do with this, as it simply didn’t make any sense, and whoever was doing this had used the weather to draw suspicions away from themselves.   
But if not goblins; then who?   
One thing was dismissing Roland’s claims, or rather, not believing in them, but then who was behind all of this? Did someone from another kingdom travel all the way to the Fairfields just to kill their citizens? Had some of _her_ people gone mad and started to attack their own?   
  
Sprites were too… quirky to do something like this. Sure they could be quite scary, what with their alternative personalities and certain hobbies, but they would never harm anyone like this.   
They preferred torture by magic, it was their speciality actually, and none of the victims had looked like they had been hexed.   
_*Well, you haven’t_ **_seen_ ** _the latest subject yet.*_ _  
_   
The elves would never… she was sure that they would never turn on the kingdom like that. To kill her personal guard? To kill their own?   
It would take at least twenty elves to take on the first mentioned, and Marianne had already agreed with herself that it had been a beast that attacked then. And she just couldn’t imagine the elves turning on their own... a family with kids? Unspoken for, it could not be them.   
  
Brownies? Brownies were known for being careful and calculated. They ran from any situation they deemed too dangerous, or they turned invisible anyway, and a brownie was not physically very strong. They were built for hiding and sneaking, not for fighting, and they definitely wouldn’t kill their own either.   
  
Marianne didn’t want to think about it, but maybe… maybe it had been fairies? Fairies could fight, some were trained for it same as sprites and elves were, and they could very much wield a sword, spear, or an axe.   
Those weapons would be too big for an elf and too… physical for a sprite.   
  
What if the wounds on the elves came from fairy swords. What is there was a traitor among them? It couldn’t be a fairy from another kingdom. Fairies were very diligent when it came to minding their own business, and taking care of their own respective problems. They seldom asked for help, too proud and all that, and they knew to not bother others if it meant that conflict could break out.   
  
Fairies also weren’t the most common creature of their world she knew, and aside from the Southern and Western kingdom, only a handful of fairy settlements existed in the Alba.   
It was common for her kind to huddle together in big clusters, and those clusters would eventually grow big enough to be called cities or even castles.   
Then a city-established council would be elected, and a king and queen would sit at the very top of the hierarchy to make sure everything was in order.   
That was the way of the royalty among fairies anyway. The first king was chosen by the people, and his firstborn would become the next monarch of royal blood.   
  
There hadn’t been a conflict with other fairy settlements in decades if there had ever been one! So, why would kingdoms from far away want to attack this one? And if another fairy kingdom had a problem with hers, why not kill fairies? Why kill the ones that had no play in how things were run?   
Elves and brownies had been in the area the same time her forefathers put down camp here, and an agreement had been made for protection right away. The elves and brownies could rely on the fairies to keep them safe, and in exchange, they wouldn’t meddle in the affairs of the castle.   
  
It had worked like that since the beginning of time, and sometimes for better or worse. Right now Marianne knew her own kingdom needed change, as fear had corrupted their way of doing things, and she needed to act fast before everything got out of hand.

And that was why she was now flying like a bat out of hell to reach the Forbidden passage. Bog was hot on her heels, and if she thought he’d looked to be in a foul mood with his goblin a few minutes ago, now he was absolutely burning with fury.   
He’d stormed out, of course, roaring as yet another attack managed to happen right under his nose, and Marianne felt his anger as her own.   
Another subject dead, another life tragically wasted and even with the water soaking her hair and clothing, her wings beat with renewed fury as the clearing of the forest came closer and closer.   
  
A horde of goblins was behind them, following from the ground and in the trees. She figured that the rumors of the attacks had spread, and everyone wanted to see for themselves this time around. The scouting teams Bog had sent out yesterday had yet to return, but Marianne was pretty sure they’d come back with the same answer   
as the one Bog had gotten when he went to visit the first tribe.   
She looked down towards the ground beneath them, and she was surprised to see several larger goblins keeping up with her speed.   
Winged creatures were fast, goblins, sprites, and fairies alike, so to see something on four legs moving _that_ fast was a little unnerving - but also really impressive and fascinating.   
  
Her moment of awe was broken by something warm touching her forehead.   
It had been a light, almost feathery feeling, and when she looked up she had to squint her eyes as something shiny blinded her from afar. She momentarily lost speed because of it, and Bog flew by her along with several goblins all mounted on dragonflies.   
He looked back with a confused expression, but she simply waved her hand at him to tell him to _keep going_ as she herself stopped to look towards the source of the light.   
He did so, and soon she was alone.   
  
Hovering in the air she found that whatever was shining was aimed solely on her, and no matter where she turned, the blinding light followed her.   
It was a strange phenomenon, and Marianne couldn’t remember ever hearing about water reflecting light like that. The sun had risen hours ago, and it was obviously the beams of it being cascaded back at her from some smooth   
surface. She tried to squint through the light, to see what was on the other side, but it was concentrated and aimed directly at her face.   
She brought up her arms to shield her eyes from a particularly strong beam, and soon she felt a blow to the back of her head, and then everything went black.


	15. Chapter 13 - Cry Fox

“Daddy! What is going on?!”   
  
Dagda looked up from his seat in the library. The old king had spent the last few hours reading up on any documents they castle had on the Dark Forest, and while the collection hadn’t been extensive, it would still be several hours till he was done.   
The sight of his youngest was, therefore, a blessed one, and he stood from the chair with as much grace as he could before the smaller fairy crashed into his arms.   
She was heaving in breath after breath, and it was clear that she’d been rushing all morning.   
  
“Dawn! What’s the matter?! Wait… where have you been?!” Dagda was embarrassed to say, but with Marianne’s kidnapping, the circumstances of Dawn’s whereabouts had completely slipped his mind.   
  
“I was at Elven! I stayed there after Marianne left - to help with the funeral arrangements!” Before Dagda could respond, the princess hurriedly added; “Daddy, why is the army gearing up? What’s happened?!”   
Her eyes were wide with worry as she placed her hands on his shoulders, and Dagda gently grabbed her wrists to hold her hands in his between them. He breathed out a heavy sigh as he tried to keep himself from shaking - the whole thing was pretty much still chaotic, and the thought of his eldest…   
  
“Marianne has been taken, Dawn… The Bog king has taken her…” He said, his voice quivering and tears emerging at his eyes.   
Dawn simply looked at him, her expression blank and her eyebrows furrowed. Dagda expected her to cry, to fuss and to shout, but he didn’t expect her to violently pull her hands from his and shooting him a glare.   
  
“Who told you that?” She said, her voice stern and filled with fury.   
  
Dagda blinked. It was now his turn to stare blankly at his daughter, and he found himself at a loss for words. He tried anyway, and he wasn’t at all happy with the way he stammered and sounded unsure;   
“We-well... Roland did? He went to her room, she’d been kidnapped? Dawn why are you-”   
  
Dawn shook her head violently as her cheeks reddened. She looked like a child throwing a tantrum, and at the same time, she looked absolutely dangerous when her blue eyes caught his green ones.   
“Bog would never do that! Roland is lying dad!” She shouted, and Dagda found himself taking a few steps back. That was preposterous!   
“Why would Roland lie? Dawn, please, he’s our king! He wants what’s be-”   
  
“He’s been lying for years! Outshining Marianne, putting his needs before the kingdom, playing with his power! Don’t tell me you actually trust him!?”   
  
Dagda’s eyes grew hard when he looked at her now. “Dawn! What is the matter with you? Why are you suddenly so against Roland?! He’s your brother in law!”   
Sure, Roland had been… irresponsible at times, but he was young! Well, he hadn’t made the best decisions all the time, but he was still learning! Dagda could remember ascending the throne himself by Helena’s side - how nervous he’d been.   
And he’d been about ready to explode when he became the sole ruler! Ruling a kingdom was a lot of pressure to put on one man, and the stress could get to you sometimes!   
“ _Suddenly?_ Dad, Marianne and I have wanted him gone for _over three years!_ ”   
  
Dawn clapped her hands over her mouth the second the words left her, as if surprised she’d said what she said, and Dagda felt as though his very breath left him.   
“Marianne? But... she... why?”   
She’d talked to him about it before, she’d clearly mentioned several times not trusting Roland’s judgment, and not believing his stories on several accounts. Just the other day she’d expressed concern about the whole goblin attack, and how she believed Roland had lied.   
But she’d never, _never_ , directly told him that she wanted to...   
  
“She wants a _divorce_ ?”   
  
The word burned on his tongue. That would be a scandal beyond compare, and it would rip a clear tear through the alliance they had with the South.   
Roland had expanded their armies, he’d renovated the castle, made sure that herbs and materials from the South could be traded safely, he’d even expanded the council! He’d made winter migration possible, secured the fairies safety when the cold hit!   
Everything was running so smoothly now because of his influence, and Dagda could only imagine what he’d do if Marianne denounced him.   
Roland would be offended, and he would undoubtedly demand some sort of payback for the humiliation.   
“But… _why?!_ Everything’s going so well! I mean sure, he’s made _some_ mistakes, but he’s young! They’re both young! She can’t possibly know that she’d want a divorce! It’s just a bump, marriage has them, she’ll-”   
  
“Everything’s going well? Dad… these past five years, more elves and brownies have died in the winter than ever before! The materials traded are being distributed unfairly between poor and rich, and the council consists only of male fairies who all have the same goal! We’re using more resources training our armies than rebuilding villages, and the sprites have threatened with cutting us off!”   
  
Marianne had always been the headstrong one. She was never one for traditions, and she would try to bend the rules whenever she could. Dawn, on the other hand, had always trusted in the system. She knew that she was safe when things were done right, and to hear her openly express concern that things weren’t anymore? She was observant, and with the way she trusted the system, she’d obviously know when it was broken.   
Dagda was dumbfounded - since when did things seem so bad?   
It had been a long time since he’d visited Elven of course, and now that he was no longer king, the official royal records were out of his reach, so the distribution matter was also beyond him, same as the repairing business of the villages surrounding the castle.   
The sprites though?   
  
“They are cutting us off?” He asked incredulously.   
The alliance with the sprites had been Marianne’s idea, and Roland had come up with a solution. The two of them had made it their first royal decree that the sprites of the Crystalline falls would be welcomed as people of the Fairfield’s, and that they in exchange for their services would be given the same resources and protection as the elves and brownies.   
  
“Roland promise them that the Sugarplum fairy would be set free from the Dark Forest years ago, and he hasn’t done _anything_ to see it happen! That’s why they initially suddenly showed such concern in aiding our kingdom!   
But that aid is dwindling now. Marianne asked for their help two days ago, and they declined. They say they can’t trust us anymore.”   
  
Her words struck like a hammer, and Dagda had no idea that things had turned out that way. Roland had come in one day and announced that the Crystalline falls were now official partners of the Fairfield kingdom, and Dagda had been thrilled - the whole council had been thrilled. Even Marianne had been excited, and she’d said that everything was well under control - it had been the beginning of a new era.   
That seemed like a long time ago now.   
  
“I’m sure he’s just been busy… The Dark Forest hasn’t exactly been willing to cooperate, and see what’s happened now!” This wasn’t true, it couldn’t be true. Roland had been the solution, the better choice and the voice of reason… He couldn’t possibly have been a mistake, not after everything Dagda went through to secure his and Marianne’s marriage.   
  
“Bog would never hurt her! The first contact in years was a success, well, everything considered, and Marianne and Bog got along extremely well! If Marianne is at the Dark Forest, it’s because she went there herself!” Dawn   
shouted, and Dagda found that if things got any weirder, he might pass out. His head was indeed spinning, and the old man reached behind to pull up a chair before he fell.   
His daughter rushed to his side, clearly concerned about how pale he’d suddenly gone. This was crazy, Bog was a goblin.   
A goblin had made his wife’s death possible, a goblin had threatened him so many years ago with war, a goblin had belittled him. Roland had made all his worries disappear.   
  
“Roland…” Dawn hung her head as she looked away from him, and Dagda tried to catch her eyes as he waited for whatever she had to say next.   
“Roland has been cheating on Marianne for years. I know you think she shifted around with no reason to at all, but everything that’s changed about her has been because of Roland.”   
Dawn straightened back up, and as his gaze followed her he couldn’t help but notice the disappointed look she bore.   
“She didn’t want to tell you. She waited a long time before telling me too. She couldn’t.” Tears started to make their way down her face, but her expression stayed schooled and hard. These weren’t the tears of a young child that wasn’t getting their way.   
These were the tears of someone who’d had enough but needed to stay strong despite that - the face of someone who bore their pain every day with dignity.   
“He took her from us, our sweet Marianne. And you _still_ trust him even when _Marianne_ went to the one person you _don’t_ trust for help.”   
  
Dagda felt himself breathe, he felt his heartbeat, felt how the hair on his arms and at the back of his neck bristled in anger, and he felt how the tears started to run down his cheeks.   
Both of his girls had changed so much. They had grown up, and one of them had done so without proper guidance… maybe even both of them.   
  
If Dawn was really telling the truth, and why would she lie, then the world as he knew it was nothing but a facade.   
  
He’d been so relieved to be free of his royal duties, so relieved that Marianne had Roland to protect her, so relieved that Dawn was happy and content. He’d done his job as a father and king well, and he could only hope that their mother looked down at him with pride.   
But in reality, both of his girls had suffered. One had experienced years of hardships, had to fight for the position that was rightfully hers, had to deal with not being properly guided or aided and had paid a tremendous prize for it.   
And one had to watch it all happen from the sidelines, not sure if she could really do much else but support the other, and she’d undoubtedly felt helpless and scared for the future.   
  
His shoulders shook as his tears streamed down his cheeks, and his teeth grit together in a pained expression. He had no reason to doubt her, and no reason to doubt Marianne…   
“I should have listened… I should have… she...”   
He closed his eyes as they filled with tears, his vision blurring and his ears ringing.   
“I’ve been a fool... of course I should have never doubted you… I chose Roland over my own blood…”   
  
He felt two hands gently touch his cheeks, the thumb of one rubbing at his tears, and before he could open his eyes the full weight of his daughter crasedh into his own, and he felt those slender arms encase him.   
He hugged her back with fervor, the tremor in his voice shaking them both as they sobbed together.   
  
The rain outside was letting up, and the world had been cleaned once more. He held his daughter in his arms for what felt like an eternity, and when he finally let her go, he no longer saw the small, naive little girl he’d raised.   
He saw a young woman who was willing to fight for what was right, and Dagda now knew the kingdom needed change. He also knew that he would do everything in his power to see it happen.  


\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------  


The air around her was humid. Mud clung to her face, twigs, and thorns had scraped her knees and arms, her hair was all ruffled up, and something dripped from the back of her head. Something _warm_ .   
Marianne groaned as she lifted herself from the ground, her arms shook as her head throbbed, and her vision swam when she tried to lift her head.   
The rain was still coming down in a light drizzle, and her wings felt heavy with moisture. Her skin was ice cold, and her entire body was buzzing lightly from the temperature.   
Her joints felt sore and stiff, and Marianne had to wait several seconds before she could make another move, and then several more to move further.   
When she’d finally managed to get into a sitting position, she lifted a hand to reach for the back of her head, and when she retracted it, her palm had a fine smeared line of blood on it.   
  
“Damn it…” She hissed as she wiped her hand on her leggings before she slowly moved to stand. She was still in the Dark Forest, and not far from the Forbidden passage if she was correct. If she was quick, she could still get there before the body was moved.   
Well, she didn’t exactly know how long she’d been out for, but the sun’s position hadn’t changed much, and she figured that Bog would have gone looking for her if she’d been gone for too long.   
  
Her hair bounced as she shook her head free of accumulated dew and mud. The motion made her ears ring, and she realized she really had taken quite a hit. Whoever had hit her had to be strong, and from what she could remember, Marianne was certain they’d hit her with something metal.   
Just as the thought crossed her mind she heard a rustle of leaves behind her, and as she turned around her eyes widened at who came walking out from the bush behind her.   
  
“Thank the Gods, I thought you might’ve died!” Phillip exclaimed as he covered his heart with a hand in a relieved gesture. Marianne narrowed her eyes as she took him in. For someone who’d had a wing dislocated just recently, his armor didn’t seem to wear down on it or cause him any pain. And what in the world was he doing in the Dark Forest?   
“Phillip? What’s going on… where’s Roland?”   
  
The triplets rarely left Roland’s side, especially outside of the castle, so seeing one of them alone was disturbing.   
  
If Roland had caught up to her already there would be hell to pay and a lot of explanation to do. If a brownie had truly been killed, Roland would be all over it to further his cause. But then again, he couldn’t rightfully blame Bog this time, as he’d been with her this entire time.   
There was no way she wouldn’t have noticed if any goblins moved out from the castle to hunt down and kill the brownie, and she would’ve heard it if Bog gave the order.   
She had been sleeping for some time of course, but Marianne had become a light sleeper over the years, and had the Dark castle been buzzing with activity, she’d have woken up.   
  
Phillip waved her hand at her in a dismissive manner as he scoffed, and Marianne was reminded of just how much Roland had spoiled them over the years.   
* _They think themselves better than me.*_ _  
_ _  
_ “Don’t you worry your highness, Roland has got everything under control! And he said it would be best if you stayed here, so I’m here to keep you company!”   
  
Wait, what? Roland had things under control? What was he getting at - had _what_ under control? Marianne felt the panic start to rise in her stomach as she turned to look in the direction Bog and his goblins had flown in earlier.   
She heard a shuffling noise immediately from behind her, and she turned to see that Phillip had moved closer. He was the youngest of the triplets, and even if he was an adult the same as them, he was ironically very much naive and the _little brother_ of the bunch.   
His stance was tense, and his hand played at his hip near his sword - _whose tip was covered in blood._ _  
_ _  
_ The wound on the back of her head throbbed, and Marianne was surprised to find that the scenario didn’t surprise her at all. Those boys were loyal to Roland, and Roland alone, and if Roland had anything to do with these murders, as she was starting to suspect, the triplets would be helping him.   
So, she turned back around to hear Phillip once again move closer, and when she felt his presence one foot away, she spun back around to aim a kick right at his head.   
Her wings flared to give her a boost, and to surprise her opponent had his helmet knocked right off as his head snapped to the side by the impact of her kick.   
He tumbled to the side, his sword clumsily being unsheathed as he fell, and it clanged to the ground next to him where he fell.   
  
Marianne moved quickly as she drew her own sword and ran over to kick his sword away. The fairy on the ground reached out to grab her legs, but she took to the air to hover above him before he could tighten his grip.   
The time it took him to scramble over and pick up his sword gave Marianne the possibility to fly over and slice her own sword along his back.   
Sparks flew from where the sword collided with his armor, and a fine line was scraped across the shining surface.   
The action sent Phillip tumbling to the ground again, and when he finally got back up, sword in hand, his face was covered in dirt and his expression was furious.   
  
A smirk crept its way across her face, and to her delight, his features got angrier. It took less than three seconds for her to goad him into attacking her, and when he did come running full sprint, Marianne was already out of his way and on his side to deliver one more powerful kick to his ribs this time.   
He staggered but didn’t fall over, and Marianne had to bend her knees to barely escape having her legs chopped off when his blade came swinging.   
She landed to sprint behind him, and before he could turn she grabbed his right arm and cracked it over her knee. He let go of the sword with a shout of pain, and she used the distraction to kick him in the shins as hard as she could.   
The reaction was immediate, and Phillip keeled over and face planted once more in the damp, muddy dirt beneath them.   
  
Before Marianne could decide on what to do next, a strong pair of arms encased her from behind, and a knee to her lower back brought her down to the ground in one swift crack of her back.   
She groaned as her knees were scraped and the air in her lungs left her, and the wound on the back of her head announced itself by throbbing once more. The action also made her drop her sword, and the shining metal was covered in mud as it landed with a heavy thud.   
When she looked back over her shoulder she saw the face of Nicholas, and she suddenly remembered that someone had shone the light in her eyes, while another attacked her from behind.   
  
“You’ve got quite the moves. I guess Marcus did do his best with you.” Nicholas hissed, and Marianne watched as his eyes shot between his brother and herself.   
“You okay man?” He shouted at Phillip, and the younger brother answered by getting up, picking up his sword and marching up to stand directly in front of Marianne. Then he punched her in the face.   
  
“Fucking bitch.” Phillip sputtered as he spat out some dirt and grime, and Marianne couldn’t help but chuckle as she licked her now split lip.   
  
“Fucking hell Phillip, we’re not supposed to -”   
“SHUT UP!! You didn’t just get your ass handed to you, let me have some fun!” Phillip sneered, and Marianne felt how Nicholas tightened his grip on her. Her wings were restricted between her back and his torso, her lower body was encased in between his legs, and her arms were secured in his arms.   
The man before her glared down at her, and she put great effort into tilting her chin towards him and blowing some stray hairs out of her face.   
  
“Keep going. Maybe you can make me as pretty as you.” She smirked, but before Phillip could line up another punch, Nicholas rose and Marianne was forced to rise with him. She struggled in the hold, but Nicholas was bigger than her, and his grip was strong - she’d need to surprise him before she could break his grip.   
  
“So, what is this? A hostage situation? You know I won’t stand for this, the council won’t stand for this - you’re _done._ As soon as I get back to the castle -”   
“Well that’s the beauty of it - you won’t.” The youngest brother shot her a muddy grin, and her eyes widened as her mouth shut open. Phillip’s words rang in her head, and she felt her breath escape her.   
He couldn’t possibly mean...   
  
“Those last killings weren’t enough, but this one will be. One dead brownie to distract everyone, one kidnapped queen to spark the flame, and one royal corpse to burn down the forest. Not quite like we planned it, but this will be faster - more efficient.”   
Phillip smiled as he got all up in her face, close enough for her to see every little imperfection in his skin.   
“After this Roland will be the sole heir to the kingdom, and his bloodline will become that of royalty. We will get the respect we’ve always deserved, and we have _you_ to thank for it! Running away like that? Clever. But not clever enough.”   
  
“I… I didn’t get kidnapped. Bog will tell them, he’ll - “   
  
“He’ll what? When they do find you, you will be… well, I’m sure you can imagine. We have to make it look like a goblin attack after all.”   
  
“Are you quite done blabbering about our whole plan out in the open?” With the way Phillip’s features shrunk and his eyes became weary, Marianne could almost imagine Nichola’s expression.   
This was clearly not the most well-calculated of plans, but unfortunately, Marianne was quite certain it would work. With things stirred up as they were, the council would be at their wit’s end to get her back, and her leaving without writing a note or telling someone where she was going? She had played right into Roland’s hands, and in the end, made everything easier for him.   
  
Roland had always been hungry for power. He belittled, he humiliated and he had no concern for other people.   
He was cruel and selfish, and the only reason he wanted allies was to asses their armies and determine whether they should be eliminated or recruited. He didn’t care for politics, trading unless weapons were involved, medicine, food or anything else for that matter.   
He just wanted power, and if Marianne didn’t figure out a way to escape, he would have everything he’d apparently ever wished for.   
With Roland as the sole monarch, he would be unstoppable, and Marianne felt herself shiver at the thought of it.     
  
The two brothers started bickering, but the words just flowed over her head like water. She needed to get away, get to the Forbidden passage, get to Bog.   
The triplets were officially traitors to the crown, and she knew that killing them so that they couldn’t follow would be best. She could also have need of them though. If she was to frame Roland, having evidence would be best, and the   
confession they both just made would work better if they survived - and even better if she was seen in Bog’s presence without fearing him.   
The council would have to listen to her this time no matter what. They believed her to be kidnapped right now, and if she came home with truths of Roland planning her assassination, he would be denounced right away.   
_*Worked out fine for both of us, didn’t it?*_ _  
_ _  
_ Right, escape then.   
  
They were talking about how best to go about killing her, and Marianne knew that if she started to struggle, the process would be sped up and she would be dead within a few minutes.   
She looked around. The rain was beginning to taper off completely, but the air around them was still uncomfortably humid. The ground was muddy, and she knew for certain that she could make them skid if she got a good angle on them, but that meant she’d have to be airborne. Her wings were tightly secured, but if she got one free, maybe she could smack Nicholas in the face with it? It would certainly be a surprise, but maybe also too risky…   
  
“I say we mess up her face pretty bad! She’s so messed up as it is, it wouldn’t make a difference after all.” Phillip drawled as he placed a hand beneath her chin, and Marianne violently snapped her head to the side and then went to bite his fingers.   
The solution came on its own as Phillip yelped in surprise as his fingers were crushed between her teeth, and as blood dripped from her canines, he swung back his free hand to punch her once more.   
The confusion of it all, and Nicholas being surprised at his brother’s yelp of pain made him loosen his grip for just a split second, and Marianne opened her wings violently. The movement resulted in Nicholas being thrown backwards, and while he fell on his backside, Marianne headbutted Phillip in front of her.   
  
Blood trickled down her forehead as the back of her head complained again, but she had no time to care, and she flared out her wings to take off into the air.   
Her escape was short lived though as she felt a hand grab her boot, and before she knew it she was violently flung to the ground, her forehead smacking into the mud.   
As her vision blurred and she felt herself getting dizzier, the adrenaline in her body did nothing to get her back on her feet, and she stumbled over as soon as she rose on all fours.   
She heard laughter, and what was undoubtedly Phillip spitting at the ground beside her, and as she braced herself for what would undoubtedly be a kick to the ribs, everything went dead silent.   
  
She lifted her head and froze immediately when she saw it. The commotion they had been making had attracted something _big, red and furry._   
  
The fox bore several scars on its front legs, and while her vision still swam, she could tell that they were quite fresh. Her heart thumped in her chest, and she did her best to lay perfectly still. Foxes hunted mostly by sound, and as things were right now, Marianne was _covered in mud, leaves, and branches_ , so if she could manage to lay still, maybe it wouldn’t notice her.   
She heard shuffling behind her, and soon hell broke loose.   
  
The running of feet was noticeable in the mud, the flapping of wings could be heard loudly around her, and soon the screams of terror drowned out everything else. The giant beast leapt into the air to snatch one of her assailants, and soon the sound of tearing, crunching and splattering filled the area.   
She closed her eyes as the screams grew in volume, and she thought she heard the sounds of a sword slicing through flesh. The fox yipped and chirped as it was attacked, and Marianne prayed to the Gods that it wouldn’t step on her.   
Another snapping sound, a sword clanging to the ground, and the sound of _chewing_ .   
  
Then everything grew silent, and several minutes passed as the fox feasted in peace and Marianne panicked in the mud.   
She was of course relieved to have survived the initial threat, but the danger was nowhere near over yet, and she had to think fast on what to do.   
She’d need to get to the passage, and _fast_ , not only to tell Bog of what had happened but also to warn him that a fox was on the prowl. Her mind was racing as she went from idea to idea, but she decided in the end that she couldn’t do much until the fox went on its way.   
_*Okay, relax! You got this*_ _  
_ _  
_ As if on cue the fox turned around, and Marianne could hear how it sniffed the air. Could it smell her? Was it just sniffing for more food, or could it smell Bog and his goblin’s? Her pulse raced in her ears and she squeezed her eyes shut in a desperate measure, hoping that the childish saying of _if I can’t see it, it can’t see me,_ would work.   
  
“Funny. I thought you fairies were supposed to be so smart. And here you are, _slaughtering your own_ .”   
  
The sound was snarky, the words came as a huge surprise, and Marianne internally scolded herself for looking over her shoulder in the direction of the fox. The creature was looking at her with one golden eye, and one empty socket, its fangs bared as blood dripped from them and pieces of armor hung from its fangs.   
Marianne noticed how a piece of what looked like Phillips wing was stuck in the back of its maw, and she felt herself retch and gag.   
  
“Poor little fairy. Betrayed by her own kind - left to die.” It stepped closer and Marianne could smell the gore on it. Its muzzle was drenched in blood and mud, and she clasped her hands over her own mouth and nose to keep the smell away.   
“Rude. I just _saved_ you - did I not?” The fox laid its ears flat as the fur on its back bristled, and Marianne moved to turn herself around. She used her arms to support her and soon she was facing the fox while sitting on the ground with her legs spread out in front of her.   
She eyed the beast suspiciously before her voice finally found its way out of her throat;   
“You s-saved me? Why?”   
  
“Purple wings, brown hair and golden eyes.” It stated matter of factly, and Marianne raised a brow as the words held no meaning for her.   
“The one that took my eye told me to never kill you, or she’d take the other one too.”  It scoffed as it licked its muzzle clean, and Marianne felt how her heart skipped a beat. _She?_ _  
_ _  
_ “What do you mean? Who told you… where are they?” She said as she rose to her knees while ruffling her hair and face free of mud. Her muscles ached, and she had to fight herself to eventually get into a standing position, but if the fox sensed her weakness it didn’t show it. Probably because it wasn’t _allowed_ to kill her.   
She staggered a few feet closer as she wiped her arms free of grime, now certain that the fox wouldn’t hurt her as it itself took a few steps back and yipped at her in frustration.   
“Go away! I can’t eat you, so stop tempting me!”   
  
“WHERE IS SHE?!” Marianne shouted, and the fox laid its ears back in fear this time as it covered before her.   
“Nearby! I don’t know, she moves, I don’t talk to her! She just told me not to hurt you!”   
“Well, what else did she tell you?!“ Marianne was frustrated now. Who had the guts to fight a fox, and then to order it around? Robbing anyone of their eyesight was a secure way to earn their fear, obviously, but a fox was not an opponent you’d pick to ensure their obedience. You’d steer clear of them, keep a safe distance no matter what, and gather a large group of people before even _considering_ taking it down.   
Unless…   
  
“What does she look like? Do you know her name?”   
  
The fox rose again and walked past her, making sure not to touch her as it went, and Marianne noticed how its ears flicked around.   
“What is it? What do you hear?”   
It chirped and yipped quietly as it turned in the general direction of the Forbidden passage, and Marianne felt panic rise in her guts. Even she could hear it now, the trumpets and the drums of the Fairfield army, and Marianne noticed how the fox licked its muzzle once more before it started to move in the direction she’d been headed in before she’d been attacked.   
  
“NO!” She screamed as she reached for her sword and with it in hand leapt into the air, her wings surprisingly strong enough to carry her. The fox turned around and the pupil of its one eye shrunk in fear as she brought her sword down to slice across its nose. The soft flesh gave away and blood spurted from the wound.   
The fox yelped and reared on its hind legs as Marianne continued to land blow upon blow on its muzzle and cheeks.   
Shaking its head the fox kept its remaining eye closed, and Marianne had free reign to do whatever she wanted. It ran and she followed, it rolled on the ground and she hovered above it, and she felt like an angry hornet protecting its hive as her sword dug into the skin on its mouth. The sword pierced through and she heard the edge scrape against the teeth of the beast, and as the fox pulled back, its upper lip was slashed open.   
  
As it brought up a paw to wipe at the wound Marianne landed on its nose, and the second it opened its eye she aimed the tip of her sword at it. The fox froze as it whimpered, and Marianne had never felt more powerful in her life.   
“I am Marianne, queen of the Fairfields, and if you even _think_ about touching any more of my people? I will gouge out your remaining eye and leave you to die.” She heaved with a strict look in her eyes.   
  
As the fox stood completely still, Marianne had the chance to finally get a good look at it. It was scrawny looking, with a pale red coat that was bordering on brown, and while it was now covered in scars and wound, its eyes didn’t hold much wisdom.   
“You’re just a kit.” She said, and while the realization made her feel bad, she didn’t lower her sword.   
  
It recoiled slightly at her words, and she could feel how it tensed up.   
“So? I’ve taken down dozen of those slimy things that live in these woods! Even defended myself from _several_ of _your_ people the other day!” It sneered and Marianne felt her eyes widen.   
“What?” She said, and the shock in her voice had the fox slightly grinning.   
  
“I was just minding my own business, and then I was attacked out of nowhere! Had never seen your kind before, but you sure are delicious. Turned out to not be such an easy meal after all, and the golden one forced me to leave my kill behind.”   
  
That’s it. The wounds, the marks, the smell that had been on them. THIS was the first killer! This scrawny young kit had taken down her most skilled soldiers, and Roland had _lied._   
She had to act fast. The fox was beginning to move again, the tension still present in its limbs, and she felt how its teeth bared beneath her.   
She straightened her arm and the sword crept closer to the fox’s eye - that earned her a few seconds as it stilled completely again.   
She looked at the fox and fought to keep its gaze. It went from focusing on her to focusing on her blade, but in the end, it held her eyes.   
  
“The golden one? She kept you from eating my men? _And_ she told you not to kill me.”   
The fox nodded its head lightly. “Yes. She follows me, she makes sure I keep my promise.”   
  
“I thought you said you didn’t know where she was?” Marianne said, her words angry and her posture rigid.   
  
“I said _she moves_ . But I don’t know where she is. Just that she follows me.“ It said in a sassy tone, and Marianne felt it was toying with her.   
She grabbed her sword with both hands and angled her body to ready herself to strike. The ears of the fox laid flat once more, and she sensed how its tail went between its legs.   
  
“Well, she’s not here right now, is she? She would’ve helped me if she was.”   
The fox was starting to shake, and Marianne wasn’t sure if she should press the subject further. Whoever the golden one was, she had kept the fox from eating what remained of her friends, but since _she_ hadn’t intervened yet, Marianne wasn’t sure if she could be trusted.   
  
Yet, the golden one knew who she was? Could it be a sprite? Golden sprites were not unheard of, but why would they risk injury by keeping a beast from eating what it had essentially earned?   
Sprites were people of nature, and they’d call an owl attacking a small child the way things worked, so the thought of them intervening like this irked her.   
  
Despite everything, it was obvious that the fox feared _her_ now, and if a sprite could scare it into not killing _her_ , Marianne could definitely scare it into doing something important for her.   
  
“Alright. I will let you go, _if_ , you do one thing for me.” She said as she broke herself out of her musings, and she could tell that the fox was not at all happy about the situation. Nonetheless, this creature was going to be the biggest piece in her plan, and she knew she needed to strike an even _bigger_ bargain for it to agree.   
  
 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“Ah already told ye, th’ queen is in there! If ye’d let me _get her-_ ”   
  
“And leave you out of our sight?! I think not! You were clever to use the elf murder to further your innocence in this, but I knew exactly what you were doing! The game ends here, you lose!”   
  
Bog felt his shoulder plate rattle as his teeth ground together. Almost every single one of his goblins that resided at the castle was present, and they were _vastly_ outnumbered. He knew the Fairfields had grown their armies over the years, but he’d never thought they’d intend on using them against his people.   
He’d been careful to never disturb them, to keep out of their way, to make sure they weren’t bothered, and this was the thanks he got?!   
The grip on his scepter tightened as he stared back at that fool hearted king. Roland’s blonde locks were damp from the rain, and his green armor shone with moisture. He looked so out of place with how perfect he thought he was, his army at his back and his pearly white teeth revealed in a mock sneer.   
The idiot, unfortunately, he had the upper hand, and Bog was quite certain that Roland was after _him_ in specific.   
  
“Aye, ye wouldn’t - would ye.” Bog lowered his head as he lowered his scepter, but held Roland’s gaze all the same. It was undignified, but he knew his goblins would never think ill of him for acting smart, and he knew that antagonizing Roland would not be smart right now.   
“Then, pray tell, wha’ do ye suggest we do?” Bog drawled, and Roland’s eyes gleamed with purpose.   
That was not good.   
  
“I will send some men to your castle. If they are harmed, you all die. If the queen has been harmed, you all die.”   
  
Bog grimaced at the thought of fairies tearing his castle apart to find their precious queen, especially when she was in the forest right behind them all. What in the world was taking her so damn long?!   
She’d seemed distracted when she stopped midair as they all rushed here, but she’d told him to keep moving, and whatever had her stop had better be important.   
The corpse of the brownie laid at his feet, the gore still fresh and the look of horror edged into its features. Just as it had been with the elves, just as it would be with his people if he didn’t think of something to do.   
  
He could challenge the king, but Bog doubted that fairies followed the same traditions as goblin’s when it came to royal challenges - then again, what other choice did he have?   
  
“Ye will nah enter mah home. Not now, nor ever. Not as long as _Ah_ rule.” He sneered back at Roland, and the fairy all but grinned at him.   
“Is that a challenge? Do you defy my orders? You took our queen, and now you won’t give her back?!”   
  
The troops around Roland all but buzzed and stirred. They gripped the handles of their swords tighter, hardened their eyes, squared their chins and all in all seemed pretty tense about the whole thing.   
_*If ye’re so loyal to yer queen, why do ye listen to this maniac?*_ _  
_ _  
_ Bog rolled his eyes as he banged his scepter into a nearby rock, the sound and action catching the attention of everyone around - not that they all weren’t already staring at him.   
  
“Ah take it ye accept then? If ye defeat me, ye may enter.” He said sternly as he studied Roland’s face. The fairy’s expression was one of confusion, and then he looked around him with a bewildered expression and back at Bog.   
“I have an army. I can just enter.” He said in a flustered tone, and Bog cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders nonchalantly.   
“Ye can try, but as per rules of the Dark Forest, ye cannot enter without my permission. Mah borders are closed reit now, everythin’ in there woud’ try to kill ye.” Bog added with a smirk, and he could tell that Roland was beginning to consider his words.   
“The beasts o’ the forest are kept at bay by mah goblins to allow for _safe_ passage. But they _will_ attack ye and yer men.”   
  
The squirrel that the fairy king was currently situated on top of shivered and pawed at the ground, undoubtedly understanding the meaning of Bog’s words, and not at all happy to go into the forest.   
Roland himself looked just as uncomfortable, and the troops around him all seemed to lose their guts.   
Oh but wasn’t that interesting?   
“What? Ye thought Ah did nothing as a ruler? _Ah_ keep th’ forest safe an’ healthy. Mah goblins handle th’ everyday life in there, makes sure ‘at every beast, plant, and citizen thrive, and Ah oversee it.”   
  
Bog chuckled. The fool hadn’t even considered how his forest worked! Maybe they could get out of this after all.   
“Ye either let me fetch yer queen, or ye fight me ta gain free passage to the forest - tha’ is, _if ye win_ .”   
To emphasize his point he spun his scepter with one hand in front of him before once again thrusting it hard into a the rock.   
The mineral split in half, and Bog noticed how Roland’s face grew pale at the same time his frontmost soldiers took a step back.   
  
“Calm down ladies, you’re both pretty!”   
  
Bog caught the frightened expressions of the fairies before he turned around, and he almost dropped his scepter at the scene before him. Emerging from the treeline, covered in muck and grime, bruised and battered, came the most magnificent sight he’d ever laid eyes upon;   
_Marianne riding a fox while angrily sneering and grasping her sword in her right hand_ .   
  
Well, a juvenile fox at most, but a fox nonetheless, and Bog felt his jaw drop at the sight of her. She was covered in bruises and mud, but her wings were flared out in challenge as she stood atop the fox’s head, and the beast yipped and chirped in compliance with her stance.   
His heart skipped several beats, and he felt his skin tingling - she was _gorgeous and deliciously feral._ _  
_ _  
_ Roland was clearly affected too, but his expression bore no awe or respect. His eyes were comically wide, his lips quivered and his hands shook as they struggled to hold onto the squirrel’s reins.   
The beast in question was screaming and rearing, its front paws wildly thrashing as it reared, and soon it bucked its king off to run in the opposite direction of the horror before it.   
Roland fell face first into the mud and several soldiers rushed to his side to help him back up. In shock, he let himself be guided back on his feet but was soon quick to lash out and push several soldiers out of the way before walking towards Bog and Marianne.   
The fox laid its ears flat before chirping at him, and its tail flicked from side to side as it took him in.   
  
“Roland.” Marianne said in greeting, and her expression was _furious._ The troops obviously didn’t know what was going on, and many stared between their king and queen with deeply confused expressions. Others, he found, were looking downright terrified, and if this didn’t earn Marianne the respect she deserved, Bog figured she would never earn it with these people.   
  
“Marianne, darling! You’re safe!” Roland tried desperately, but her expression didn’t falter, and as she guided the fox to walk over Bog and towards Roland, everyone recoiled to get out of her way.   
“You _cheating, lying, backstabbing, SCUM OF THE EARTH!_ ” The words flew from her mouth like arrows, and Roland recoiled further as the fox bend its head down to let her step down and onto the ground. Bog watched as the fairy king held up his hands in defense, and he couldn’t help but grin at the way the fool was tripping over himself to get away from the furious queen before him.   
It was no use of course, and Marianne all but cornered her husband between the soldiers and herself.   
  
“Why don’t you tell everyone how you ordered Phillip and Nicholas to assassinate me? Why don’t you tell our people how you ordered those elves dead, and why don’t you explain how this poor brownie ended up in the stage it’s in? _And_ why don’t you elaborate on how you were attacked by goblins two days ago? I’m sure my _friend_ here would have something to say about it.”   
She gestured towards the fox that was now baring its teeth at Roland, saliva dripping from its fangs and onto the ground, and Roland fell back as his eyes grew huge with plea.   
“We meet again, _king._ ” The fox added, and the soldiers didn’t catch their king this time as he fell, but simply stared at him in disbelief.   
Marianne drew her sword and aimed it at Roland’s throat, and her soldiers did nothing to stop her. They all took a step back to allow the couple some space though, and when Roland looked back towards them they all averted their eyes.   
“That’s right. HE TRIED TO KILL ME! HE HAS BEEN LYING ABOUT ME, AND HE HAS BEEN LYING ABOUT THE BOG KING AND HIS PEOPLE. HIS PERSONAL GUARDS WERE ORDERED TO MAKE MY MURDER LOOK LIKE A GOBLIN ATTACK, JUST AS THEY’VE DONE WITH THE ELVES AND WITH THIS BROWNIE!”   
  
She regarded everyone as she shouted her truths, and those who did not catch her words were being told by their fellow soldier. Soon the entire army was murmuring and whispering amongst themselves.   
Bog smiled, he couldn’t help it, and he was sure that some of his goblins were astonished to see that expression on him after so many years.   
  
“The first incident was a misunderstanding, and I have already cleared the air with the perpetrator.” She once again gestured towards the fox, and Bog noticed how it quivered before her. She’d fought it _and_ gotten it to comply with her orders, and her dominance shone clear as day.   
_*Tough girl.*_ _  
_ _  
_ “Roland merely used it to snowball everything out of control. He-”   
  
“NO! I swear I didn’t! She has no proof, she’s saying all this to get rid of me!” Roland screamed as he rose to his feet. He reached out for several soldiers, but each of them stepped back with a disgusted look on their face.   
“WE WERE ATTACKED BY GOBLINS! The fox doesn’t matter, FOXES LIE! They are clever and cunning, she could’ve just convinced it to lie for her! She’s probably made a deal with it!”   
  
Suddenly a fairy spoke up from behind Roland, and Bog noticed how Marianne’s face grew harder as she laid her eyes on him.   
Still, she didn’t interfere and let him speak; “My brothers are away for a secret meeting at the Southern kingdom, and I have been with you the whole time! The queen is lying!” The fairy shouted, and to Bog’s surprise, some of the soldiers actually seemed doubtful.   
Were they seriously going to believe that idiot over their own queen?!   
  
“Yer queen came to me of her own volition.” Bog said as he stepped up to stand beside the fox. The giant beast eyed him suspiciously, but it didn’t move to attack him.   
_*Recognise yer king eh? Ye should’a never crossed mah people.*_ _  
_ “Yer king claimed ‘er to be kidnapped, yet here she is. What does tha’ say about yer king?” Bog rose an eyebrow as he continued to walk up and stand beside Marianne, and to his surprise, none of the soldiers moved to attack him.   
  
“It says that he’s a lying scumbag, that’s what it says.”   
  
The fox yelped and shivered as they all looked behind it, and Bog couldn’t say that he recognized the fairy that emerged from the Forbidden passage.   
“Go-golden one… I haven’t hurt her, I swear!”   
  
The fairy held a hand up to silence the fox, and Bog noticed how she was covered in wounds, both older and new, and her wings had been torn. She was still flying though, and Bog could only imagine the pain each flutter of her wings brought her.   
Her expression was steeled and directed at Roland, and the fox quickly stepped aside as she flew past it to touch down beside Marianne.   
Roland’s eyes grew impossibly wide as he took her in, and Bog was sure he saw all sorts of emotion flash through them - regret being the most predominant of them all.   
Marianne, on the other hand, was staring with an awestruck expression, and Bog was surprised to say that he felt worried for her. Well, maybe not _that_ surprised, and she really was looking as if she’d seen a ghost.   
  
“You’re alive.” Was all that escaped Marianne’s mouth, and as the newcomer turned to smile gently at her, Bog immediately understood that this was someone of importance to the fairy queen.   
“Oh my Gods, Freya, you’re alive!”   
His theory was confirmed when Marianne forcefully flung herself at the weathered fairy, and the two hugged as Roland scrambled to get away.   
The sudden movement of their king escaping caught the attention of several soldiers, and as the fairy that had just defended his king’s claim started to run as well, everyone spurred into action and tackled them to the ground.   
Okay, so this tattered fairy was certainly important if she could get those two to run.   
“Let me go! That IS AN ORDER!” Roland shouted as he was squashed beneath several soldiers, and before he could complain again he was heaved to his feet as two soldiers secured his arms behind his back.   
  
Bog walked over to the spectacle, and even though the soldiers eyes him with caution, they did nothing to stop him from leaning down towards their traitorous king.   
“Wha? Ah don’t think they caught tha’ - speak up.” He smirked as he straightened back up, and Roland struggled with bared teeth to get loose as Bog turned his back to him.   
  
“These two cowards left me and the others to get eaten, but I managed to strike a deal with our furry friend here.” The newcomer, Freya, gestured to the fox who shivered in obedience, and Bog was starting to get a whole new respect for fairies in general.   
She then let go of Marianne and the two of them walked over to Roland who was sitting on the ground, still being held back by the soldiers.   
“I saw Phillip and Nicholas leave behind a slaughtered brownie this morning. Their weapons still smeared with its blood - how do you explain that?” She said as she sat down on her haunches before him, and Bog watched as Roland’s face grew paler and paler as she spoke.   
  
“Speaking off; I also just happened to stumble upon the corpses of said murderers back in the forest. What were you lying about a secret meeting in the south?”   
The fairy that was being held back further away flinched and cried out and the soldiers that held him struggled to keep him still. Two more soldiers joined them, and the grieving fairy was pushed to the ground.   
Roland shrunk as more of his story was debunked, and Bog was certain that everyone present now believed that their king was nothing but a scoundrel.   
  
Bog went to join Marianne, and as he stood beside her he could feel how she was buzzing with excitement. She was finally getting what she’d dreamt of for years, and in the most peculiar way possible, and Bog couldn’t help but marvel at the situation.   
Four days ago he hadn’t spoken to the Fairfield kingdom in decades, and now his people had been threatened with annihilation by one monarch and saved by the other.   
This was all very surreal.   
  
“Now wou’d be a pretty good time ta’ denounce him.” He leaned in and whispered, barely able to contain his own excitement and scorn, and Marianne looked at him with the calmest expression he’d ever seen on her. He smiled back as she smiled at him, and he found he had to fight himself to not grasp her hand in his as they’d done the night before.   
She walked forwards as she regarded everyone gathered.   
  
“This will be taken up with the council of course, but know that each one of you is a witness; I hereby denounce Roland Fairfield of his title, and of his surname. He is no longer a husband of mine, and no longer the king of the Fairfields. Reasons are all known by those present, but will be presented in proper order at a later point in front of officials! Thank you for your service, but you are no longer needed at this dispute!”   
  
Now that was the queen the Fairfields needed, and the one they would be sure to get, and Bog felt incredibly proud of her. The feeling was an odd one, but he welcomed it all the same.   
He smirked as Roland was dragged away by several soldiers, and the heart he thought he had properly silenced from ever feeling anything like this again, jumped into his throat as Marianne walked back over to him and flung her right hand out in his direction.   
He eyed it for a second, and though he knew it had become a _thing_ for them to do, he couldn’t help but wonder what sort of deal they’d made now.   
  
“I need to tend to this. But promise me that we’ll see each other soon?” She asked, and her eyes shone with both desperation and hope at the same time.   
Bog smiled gently at her, grasped her hand but didn’t shake it. Instead he guided it to his lips and kissed it, and he was sure he felt her jump at the gesture.   
“Deal.”


	16. Chapter 14 - The Ways of My Heart

“Marianne! Oh, my Gods! Are you alright?!”  
She was tackled by her younger sister before she even got a chance to answer, and Marianne felt all air leave her body as Dawn clung to her almost as if her life depended on it.   
Marianne embraced her sobbing sister, and as she pet her hair she noticed her father coming running at them from the distance.   
She braced herself for a scolding. Surely her dad would be furious that she left the castle without a proper escort, and Marianne steeled her look.   
But it wasn’t anger that met her. Her father’s eyes were full of relief and tears, and her breath left her once more as Dagda embraced her from a different angle.   
“My baby girl! I thought I lost you - are you alright!?”   
  
Marianne sputtered and winced slightly as her bruises flared to life with the sudden contact, and both Dagda and Dawn flew back.   
“Oh no! You’re wounded!” Dawn put her hands to her mouth and looked at her in worry, but Marianne held up a hand to stop her from panicking.   
“I’m fine Dawn, it’s no big deal! I got in a fight with Phillip and Nicholas after Roland ordered them to get rid of me, but I handled it.” She tried, and suddenly her sister’s eyes filled with uncontainable fury instead.   
“WHAT?! What did they do to you?!” The words didn’t come from her sister, and Marianne turned to look at her dad in surprise. His expression was angry now, and she wasn’t quite sure what was going on.   
  
As if on cue, Roland was dragged in through the main entrance by a couple of guards, and Dagda turned to glare daggers at his son in law.   
“ _You._ You are going to pay dearly for this!” He shot a finger out in Roland’s direction, and the traitorous king furrowed his brow and recoiled back. “No! Dagda! Please, let me talk to the council! They’ll believe me, I am innocent in this!”   
Marianne half expected her dad to offer Roland the benefit of the doubt, but her father simply turned his back to the younger man, and Dagda didn’t spare Roland another look as he was dragged away towards the castle dungeon.   
  
“I’m glad to see you’ve come to your senses.” Marianne watched as her father’s eyes grew in size as Freya walked through the entrance, and his mouth hung open as he took her in. In truth, she looked horrible. Scratches and bruises littered her skin, her wings were torn in several places, and her usually strawberry golden hair looked matted and disheveled.   
Dawn turned around to look at the newcomer, and as she laid her eyes on Freya she sobbed with glee as she ran to her. “You’re alive!”   
While Freya had always been Marianne’s childhood friend, Dawn had played with them when they were kids, and so she was also very close to the female fairy.   
Freya embraced Dawn as she got close and the two laughed as they couldn’t believe what had just happened.   
  
“We did it. We won!” Dawn cried as she released Freya from her embrace, and Freya rolled her shoulder with a groan. “We sure did. I hope I won’t have to do anything like this again anytime soon though.”   
Dawn furrowed her brow and seemed to finally take in the state that Freya was in.   
“Fox attack.” Freya stated matter of factly, and as both Dagda and Dawn carried confused and awed expressions, she chuckled and walked towards Marianne.   
“I’ll tell you all, all about it. But for now? Let’s go see how that rascal handles the council.”   
  
As they walked towards the council room Marianne finally got to take one long, good look at her old friend. Freya noticed, and she placed a hand on Marianne’s shoulder. “Sorry that I didn’t come back right away… I had to keep an eye on the fox to make sure it didn’t hurt anyone. If I’d flown back we would have lost sight of it…”   
  
Marianne shook her head with a smile and grasped Freya’s hand in her own. “Don’t be sorry. I’m just so _relieved_ that you’re alive!” Their hands hung between them, and Freya brought them up to her lips to sigh into the back of Marianne’s hand.   
Her brow furrowed and her eyes closed in a strained expression, and Marianne almost stopped walking. “Are you okay?”   
Freya nodded weakly as she let Marianne’s hand go, and when she stared ahead her eyes were distant and pained. “Almar died right in front of me. They all did.” She said, and tears started to roll down her cheeks as a shaky breath escaped her.   
“Fuck.” She sobbed and Marianne stopped and gathered her into an embrace. “I should’ve killed that fox for what it did, but… it was just protecting itself… it wouldn’t have been right.” She cried into Marianne’s shoulder, and as Marianne cooed at Freya to calm her down, Dawn came up behind them and hugged them both.   
Her younger sister looked at her while she gently caressed Freya’s back, and Marianne nodded gratefully at Dawn as Freya cried in her arms.   
  
“It’s not right what happened. None of this should have happened… but they didn’t die in vain.” Freya lifted her head as Marianne spoke, and Marianne felt her own tears emerge from her eyes.   
“They were all so brave, and I know they would’ve been proud to see this happen.”   
  
She wiped some tears from Freya’s cheek as her own started to roll down. Yes, they didn’t die in vain - Marianne would make sure they wouldn’t.

The doors to the council room pushed open and all four of them entered together. Every eye in the room turnedtheir way, and several people gasped as they spotted both Marianne and Freya.   
  
“Your Majesty! You’re alive!” Hector shouted from his set, and he and Conrad both shot out of their seats as they took her in.   
  
“Did you have any doubts that I would be?” She asked as she rose a brow at them, and the two older men shrunk slightly in their seats.   
Marianne walked to the middle of the tribunes as she’d done just two days earlier, but this time she was sure she would win.   
“I have several hundred witnesses to back up my case this time; Roland fled the scene and let my personal guards be murdered.” She gestured towards Freya who gave a solemn bow towards Hector and Conrad.   
“He ordered the elf family dead, and Richard and his brother’s carried out the deed.” She nodded at Richard who was currently standing at Roland’s side. Both men had been restrained and cuffed as they stood to face trial at the feet of Hector and Conrad’s seats, and Marianne caught Roland’s eyes as he looked back at her in fury.   
“This morning he let a brownie get killed and placed a private heirloom on its person. An heirloom that was gifted to us by the Dark Forest over twenty years ago. All to frame the Bog king and his people.”   
  
“Oh, and he also ordered my assassination, and so I stand before you now; bruised and battered within an inch of my life by your beloved king and his goons.”   


Her eyes hardened as she said the last part, but her heart leapt as she heard the many gasps, whispers, and murmurs that erupted from the council.   
Hector and Conrad looked between one another, desperation clear on their faces. They took their time, talked  privately for a few minutes, and as they turned around to regard their queen, every eye in the room turned their  way.   
  
“Roland Fairfield. For your acts committed against the crown, we hereby denounce you of your status.”   
  
“Now, hold on a minute!” Roland spat from the floor as he struggled to get out of his restraints, but the two guards at his side quickly stepped up and aimed their spears at him.   
Marianne smirked as he was forced to calm down, and she looked towards the two men above her and motioned for them to continue.   
  
“If anyone in here, aside from the accused, thinks this unreasonable - you may raise your hand.” Roland looked from tribune to tribune, and Marianne watched his eyes grow darker and colder with each passing second. No one raised their hands.   
  
“I think the situation should speak for itself, but in case it is unclear; I, Marianne Fairfield, hereby rid Roland of his surname. He is no king of this land and he is no husband of mine.”   
She didn’t expect any objection, but she was nonetheless relieved when none came. She looked back towards her father, and while Dagda’s eyes held sadness, they also held relief.   
Marianne turned around once more to look towards Hector and Conrad, and as both men nodded in her direction, Marianne knew she had won. And not just the battle - she’d won the war.   
  


\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

_So fades the lovely blooming flower,_

_Frail smiling solace of an hour._

_So soon our transient comforts fly,_

_And pleasure only blooms to die._ _  
_ _  
_ Lanterns hung above them and cast hues of gold and green out on the people currently gathered at the river of the Elven village. It was late, and the atmosphere was perfect for the current festivity as fireflies on the water painted a pretty picture of the whole scene. A stage had been set up for the band to play at, and the whole plot was decorated with flowers and vines.   
Elves, brownies, goblins and fairies had gathered to dance, and as each paired up with another, Bog felt himself creep deeper into his designated corner beneath one of the mushroom houses. The shadows there were dark, but he was close enough to say that he was still part of the ceremony.   
He’d never been invited to anything outside of the Dark Forest as much as he’d been lately, but just being at Elven village had him a little on edge.   
He’d been visiting the Fairfields more often than he’d ever expected to too, and he found that he recognized several familiar faces around as he scanned the crowd.   
  
The pair on the scene was now known to him as Sunny and Dawn. They sang solemnly and with heavy hearts, and the words flowed around them all like snaky tendrils of sorrow.   
The celebration wasn’t a celebration per say, but rather a final goodbye to those that had lost their lives in the wake of Roland’s madness.   
With the newly appointed alliance between the forest and the fields, Bog and his people had been invited to plan out the ceremony, and so this was the first event that the two kingdoms hosted together. Friendships had bloomed between his people and the creatures of the fields, and Bog had to admit he was happy with the progress.   
  
His own heart had thawed over the five weeks it had been since the whole Roland incident, and he supposed that he was on the path for change as well.   
Love was still foreign to him, and while his and Marianne’s relationship had bloomed in a certain direction after her divorce, the whole thing was very strange and scary to him.   
He’d only managed to see her once or twice beside from the funerals since they parted, as she’d been extremely busy in her new role as sole ruler, but even the few minutes he spent with her had been the best moments of his life so far.   
  
The Sugarplum fairy had been sent back to the Crystalline Falls to face trial, and as Bog had expected, she’d been cleared of all charges in return of never producing another love potion again.   
He himself had also been forced to admit that having her locked away for decades for a problem he initially caused was a little strict, and she happily accepted his apology. The whole thing had been sickeningly sweet with how she’d hugged him and pinched his cheeks, but then something had happened that Bog hadn’t counted on;   
she’d told him the truth about why the potion hadn’t worked for him. After that, everything was different, and his heart had started beating in its old rhythm once more - and it _terrified_ _Bog to no end._

_Is there no kind, no healing hour,_

_To soothe the anguish of the heart._

_Spirit of grace be ever nigh,_

_Thy comforts honor me to die._ _  
_   
The song fit the occasion well enough, and everyone seemed content enough rocking to the soothing tunes together. Bog thought it odd to see his fellow goblins dance not only with each other but with several other creatures as well.   
The relatives of the elf family were at the front of the stage, and the family of the brownie off to the side, and the families of the goblins that had lost their lives were scattered among the crowd.   
  
The ceremony itself had been beautiful if he understood the Fairfield version of beauty well enough, and twenty torches had been lit for the deceased at the outskirts of the elf village among the flowers.   
A field that often stood in bloom with fiery red flowers apparently held the dead of Elven village, and Bog couldn’t help but think it a little macabre knowing that the bodies in the soil fed the flowers above.   
That was the way of life, and back in the forest, his father’s corpse along with his ancestors fed the trees growing there, as his would one day too. The thought shook him to his core and so he opted to sulk further into his corner as he let it drift into the back of his mind.   
  
The three soldiers that had been killed at the beginning of this whole ordeal had been burned just a few days after Roland had been stopped. What with how mangled the corpses had been, and how a burning was meant mostly for those of royal blood or noble deeds, the queen had decided it was the only rightful way to go about their ceremony, and this time no one had objected or denied her.   
He’d spoken to Freya herself after Roland had been subdued, and he’d learned about what happened with her and her friends.   
He’d also learned that she was a childhood friend of Marianne’s, and to his surprise, he actually found her pretty interesting to talk to. Anyone that had spent their lives training to fight for the crown had his respect, and they’d had actually gotten along quite well.   
  
The elves and the brownie was buried a few days later, though their ceremony hadn’t been as grand.   
Bog had been present at both. He’d been invited and felt it proper that he be there after everything that had happened, and the ceremonies had been quite heartfelt. Freya had been present at the first one of course, both to see her friends off and her brother most importantly, and while Bog himself held no tears for the departed, he’d felt it hard to keep a neutral face as Marianne and Freya had cried together.

_Let gentle patience smile on pain,_

_Til dying hope revives again._

_Hope wipes the tear from sorrows eye,_

_And faith points up towards the sky._ _  
_ _  
_ Marianne had been present today too, but she’d needed to rush to the castle for something important before the festivities tonight, and so he didn’t get a chance to talk to her. She’d promised to be here though, and thus Bog found himself huddled under the roof of a mushroom like an idiot.   
He huffed a little at the thought. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone out of his way to see someone, and as the minutes had grown into hours he’d feared she might not appear. It was funny in a way, being like this again when he’d sworn off of it years ago.   
  
He’d tried to deny after the first week of not seeing her. You couldn’t fall that quickly - there was no love at first sight, and for Bog there was a very slim chance of any love at all. Yet here he found himself; endeared and enthralled with a fairy of all things, and he remembered just how foolish he’d been in his youth. This reminded him very much of that time. _  
_ _  
_ He felt a light tap on his shoulder, and Bog turned around to be greeted with the face of a very excited Marianne. She lifted a finger to her lips to indicate that he should be quiet, and then she motioned for him to follow her.   
They snuck along a few houses, kept to the shadows, and before Bog knew it he found himself flying across the river at Elven village towards the weeping willow they’d agreed to meet at all that time ago.   
As they touched down on one of the sturdier branches, Bog turned to Marianne with a question on his face, but she simply held a hand to his mouth before any words could escape him.   
  
“Sorry - I didn’t want to be so… secret! I just knew I wouldn’t get this chance to speak to you once everyone spotted me.” She said, her voice giddy and gleeful, and Bog couldn’t remember ever seeing this side of her before.   
“Everything’s been so exciting and _rushed_ . Roland’s been denounced, you know that, and he and Richard were sent back to the Southern kingdom to face trial there yesterday. Seemed only fair that their queen should decide their fates, but from what’s she’s written to me, I think they’ve decided on lifelong imprisonment.”   
  
He watched as she fiddled with a strand of hair and bounced lightly on her feet, her words coming quick and Bog once again felt honored that she’d wanted him to know everything that had been going.

“I hope The fox hasn’t been bothering you? We made a deal that they could hunt in the Fairfields as long as they didn’t kill kids or sentient creatures such as elves, fairies, brownies and so on… I hear they’re mostly fishing at the Crystalline falls though.”   
  
Bog shook his head as she spoke, and the motion pleased her, so she smiled widely at him.   
He’d spotted the fox at the border, and while he knew it wasn’t the only fox in the area, he didn’t feel like it was important to mention, as foxes usually migrated from one place to another in very short time. As soon as the kits were ready for the summer, the parents would leave for new hunting grounds and the kits would scatter to find their own path in life.   
Besides, he knew the citizens of the Fairfields knew how to take them down now, and when not to approach.   
  
That had apparently been the issue with the first attack. The fox kit had been passing through and the goblins situated at the north-western border had deemed it necessary to attack it. He’d since given orders to never attack anything that big again unless you were certain you could take it down. And if it attacked you first, or course.   
  
“And the council at my castle is up for an re-election soon! I hope it will be fifty-fifty on gender from now on, and a few elves have even run for a seat too! I hope that new blood will help the Fairfields towards a better future, a more stable future.”   
She was smiling and her face lit up like the sun. She looked like she’d gotten a lot more sleep lately, and the wounds she’d suffered from Roland’s men were nothing but fine lines on her features now.   
  


_So fades the lovely blooming flower,_   
  


_Frail smiling solace of an hour._   
  


_So soon our transient comforts fly,_   
  


_And pleasure only blooms to die._ _  
_ _  
_ The words were muffled at this point, but the tune still reached them as the wind blew through the long lines of leaves of the willow, and Bog felt at that moment he understood where the trees name had come from.   
He looked around them as a leaf fell and pirouetted to the water below, and the rings it created as it hit the surface had him thinking of how different everything was now.   
He looked back at Marianne and noticed how her eyes had followed his and how she was now watching the ripples in the water far beneath them. She was smiling, and Bog thought that this difference was everything he’d ever needed, even when he hadn’t known how much he’d craved it.   
  
“Ah am glad everythin’s turning out alright for ye.” He said gently, and her eyes found his again. They were appreciative now and held more calm than he’d ever seen, whilst also glinting with a certain nervousness. He then noticed how close they were standing, and he swallowed as he started to wring his hands together.   
“Ah don’ suppose ye’d want to... “ He swallowed again; “Would ye, now tha’ Roland is… would ye allow me to… to…” Third time’s the charm and   
Bog felt himself swallow once more before he blurted; “Would ye allow me t’ court ye?!”   
  
He immediately shrunk down as he felt the words had come out quite fast and much too loud. The seconds that passed before Marianne blinked again were excruciating, but when she did blink her entire posture seemed overly excited and happy.   
“Ah mean, ye can think about it! Ye dinnae ‘ave t’ answer reit now, and Ah understand if-” He once again felt a finger upon his lips as Marianne stepped closer and placed it down gently. She looked at him through her lashes, and Bog felt his heart race at the contact of her skin.   
She placed a hand on his chest, and he gripped his scepter tighter to keep from falling over, and as she removed her finger he heard himself take in a huge breath.   
_*Donnae panic now ye right git!*_ _  
_ _  
_ He’d never courted anyone before. With Mina, it had been the use of the Love potion that had been his way to her heart, but that had ended in disaster, and so he knew this was the right way to do it. This was how everyone mostly did it, and he’d been thinking about it for some time now.   
When he’d realized just how infatuated he’d been with Marianne, the thought of courtship had crept into his mind. For a goblin, courtship meant proving yourself strong enough to care for your mate, that you could build a safe home for them and your offspring, and that you could provide for them.   
Bog didn’t quite know what courtship meant for fairies, and if she said yes he’d need to ask her about it.   
  
“Not fair, I wanted to be the one to court you.”   
  
The words were drawled and sensually spoken, and Bog thought he might faint with the way both her hands were now placed at his chest. But the sentence still managed to wake something in him, and he couldn’t help himself from looking awestruck.   
“Ye… wait, what?” Was all he could manage, and if it had been anyone else, he’d been furious with the way she chuckled at him.   
  
“I see you took me seriously when I told you I was interested. I was afraid I’d have to do it a fourth time.” She said then, and Bog felt himself smile awkwardly, though he didn’t remember it once her hands started to move their way up his chest towards his neck.   
They snaked around him, and he noticed how Marianne had to stand on tiptoes to reach him. Broken from his stupor at how endearing that was, he leaned down to keep his face inches from hers as he tried to speak;   
“Ye made it very clear th’ first time.” He said as his eyes slowly crept down towards her lips, and he saw how they started to smirk when she noticed.   
She leaned in, and at this point, their breaths were mingling together in the cold evening air.   
  
“Did you want to kiss me then?” She asked, and Bog heard the words ringing from afar as his mind reeled for what to do next.   
_*Trust yer heart for once*_ _  
_   
And so he kissed her.   
  
It wasn’t rushed, it wasn’t overly passionate, but it was just what they both needed; gentle, kind, and heartfelt. She obviously hadn’t expected it at first, as it took her several beats to actually kiss him back, but Bog felt how his heart skipped once when she finally did, and soon his hands found their way to the small of her back.   
  
He made an effort to lean further down and crane his neck to the side to get better access, and she sighed into him as he did so. Soon they were flush together and their lips moved over one another to part for air and connect once more.   
He’d never been kissed like this before, and Bog felt happier than he’d been in a long time. He opened his eyes to see the content features of the fairy before him, and as he closed them again he sighed open mouthed as she gently nibbled at his bottom lip.   
When he came back for her once more she was more than eager to welcome him, and the kiss grew into something more passionate and private.   
Bog felt the heat rising in his ears and his breath hitched  as her hands moved to grasp at the base of his neck. She was pulling him closer towards her, and Bog felt himself getting dizzier as the seconds passed by.   
Though he wanted nothing more than to lose himself in the moment, he felt his scepter slip from his grip and his feet reminded him that he stood on a smooth, round surface several feet above water.   
  
He opened his eyes once more and withdrew from Marianne’s lips, and when she opened her own golden eyes he quickly caressed her cheek with his own as her brow furrowed in confusion.   
“Ah take tha’ as a _yes_ .” He said teasingly, and he felt his skin tingle with the way she giggled at him in response.   
  
“Only if I get to court you too.” She whispered as she placed a kiss on his cheek, and he reluctantly straightened back up to put his hand up between them.   
Her own hands fell to his chest as she retreated back on the branch, and her eyes gleamed mischievously as she eyed his, and Bog wondered if falling in love so hard could actually kill you.   
  
But before he could contemplate it further, she took his hand decisively in hers, and shook it.


End file.
